Designated Hitter
by esmegrace
Summary: Orthopedic surgeon Bella Swan encounters the last person she ever expected to see again on Valentine's Day no less. Can she remain professional with Major League pitcher Edward Masen given their pasts?
1. Chapter 1

_February 14, 2014_

Chapter 1

Although it was still dark when I left my apartment, the warmth and humidity surrounded me as I silently descended the stairs to my car in the parking lot. It may have been mid February, but I'd come to accept that, more often than not, shorts or a sundress were the most appropriate attire for a Houston Valentine's Day. I knew my navy crepe pantsuit would require dry cleaning by the end of the day at this rate. I regretted leaving my shoulder length hair unbound. The careful waves I'd created would be frizz before lunch.

It was only 1.2 miles from my apartment complex to the brand new McNair Campus of Baylor College of Medicine, where I would be seeing patients for the day, but with the heat and the business attire required for a full day in the ritzy Sports Clinic, a nice walk was the last thing I'd entertain this morning.

It was Friday. I know it's supposed to be the best day of the week, but I hated Fridays because I preferred OR days to clinic days. I hated Valentine's Day even worse. A real bad one several years earlier had turned me off the holiday permanently. It didn't help that I hadn't had even a prospect of a date for any one of them since.

I would finish my fellowship in June, and that was really the only thing on my mind. It was important to have a goal, and this had been mine for as long as I could remember. I had a few balls in the air as far as post-fellowship jobs went, but I coveted a position in this very department. They were actively recruiting another staff physician, and I thought I had an "in" as the current fellow, but I knew politics played an important role. I'd seethed quietly as they brought in multiple people to interview for the spot. My mentor, Dr. Carlisle Cullen, tried to downplay it, but I was hyper-alert. I had made many sacrifices to get to this place, and I could finally taste the reward.

Unsurprisingly, I was sweaty and breathless when I arrived at the back entrance for clinic staff. I was early and keyed myself in, jogged up a flight of stairs, then flicked on hallway lights as I moved toward the fellow's office. I wasn't the only fellow in the department, and we all shared the room. A rotational schedule had been made, allowing each of the subspecialties to use the clinic space on a designated day. Sports Medicine got Fridays, hence my distaste for that particular day of the week.

The Sports patients at Baylor tended to be wealthy aging Houstonians worried about their golf or tennis games. I had little patience for their whining, preferring to deal with young patients at the VA, who more often that not had injured themselves on active duty while serving in Iraq or Afghanistan. To be fair, this was one of the nicer aspects of my fellowship program. I got to spend time at both locations.

I was surprised to see the light on in my office when I turned the corner. I paused in the doorway and recognized Emmett McCarty, the Major Joint fellow. His curly black head was bent intently over the computer keyboard, and his massive frame was shoved into the hand-me-down brown leather desk chair. He must have heard my approach because he stopped typing and rolled his chair back from the desk to face me.

"You're early, Swan," he greeted. I shrugged and entered the cramped space. There was a padded, folding chair next to the door. It wasn't for patients. Any paying customer here would be counseled in one of the faculty offices. I shrugged in response.

"I was thinking about the cases for Monday morning, and I wanted to go over the charts before clinic. I woke up thinking about it and couldn't get back to sleep," I explained. Emmett grinned.

"It's 6:30 AM. Your clinic doesn't start for another hour and a half," he teased. I shrugged again.

"It is what it is, Emmett. I need to do it cleaner and better if I have any chance of getting the faculty job. What's your excuse? Rosalie kicked you out again, huh?" I shot back. Emmett huffed but wasn't seriously offended by my teasing. I'd know him for years since he had been a resident at nearby UT-Houston. He'd met his wife because of me; she and I had done internship together.

"No, we're fine. It's just that I needed to get some quiet work done on this JBJS article. Emma is usually up by 5, so I knew I had no chance of success at home. This computer is so much better than the one in the GME office at the VA; I thought I'd get a bit done before walking across the street in time for 7:30 clinic start over there. Rose is on a cosmetics rotation right now. That bitch doesn't go in before 9:00 on any day, including OR days!" Emmett's wife, Rosalie, was a plastic surgery resident. They had a three year old daughter, and I had no idea how they managed that with their schedules. I nodded at him because I understood his reasoning, but he was still taking up the space I thought I'd be able to use myself this morning.

"Sure, that makes sense, I'll just grab one of the computers at the nurses' station and review some charts there," I told him, turning to leave. He interrupted me.

"Swan, do you have any plans for tonight?" he queried. I snorted in response, surprised he'd bothered to ask. Most of the department had given up curiosity over my love life long ago. I didn't give them much fodder for gossip.

"What do you think, McCarty?" I snapped. He shrugged.

"There's more to life than getting the Baylor job, Bella," he told me seriously, using my first name to boot. I pursed my lips and rolled my eyes at him. He might be right, but I'd made the decision years ago to put my career first, and I'd learned spectacularly that you couldn't go back.

Emmett had staked his claim to the office computer fair and square, so I headed out to the nurses' station to use one of those computers to access the electronic medical records. I had an hour to work before the clinic staff started arriving, so I quickly pulled up Monday's OR schedule and began reviewing the patients' charts.

The first one was a 55-year old gentleman who had torn his rotator cuff playing tennis. I vaguely recognized his name as an executive with one of the local oil companies. The next one was a young girl, a 16-year old high school basketball player with a torn ACL. The last case was a man in his early 40's requiring sub-acromial decompression, a bit young for such a surgery. He was also the Offensive Coordinator for the Houston Texans. I wouldn't get to touch that guy; I'd be lucky to steady the scope for Carlisle while he did the case himself.

I reviewed the MRI images of the injuries and visualized the repairs, imagining I was seeing the inside of the joints on the cameras and moving my hands like I was moving the instruments. I must have been lulled into my zone because I was startled by a sudden sharp sound. My eyes popped open; I hadn't been aware they were closed.

"Good morning, Dr. Swan," Tanya's sour greeting brought me back to the present. Tanya was the clinic's nursing supervisor. She had once had a promising gymnastics career, which was cut short by injury. She turned her aspirations to sports medicine, but instead of focusing on caring for others who had suffered similar disappointments, she spent most of her days studying for her MRS degree. Unfortunately, she had set her sights on Carlisle, much to his chagrin. I worried for him because she was undeniably gorgeous, as blonde and buxom as they come.

I quickly logged off the computer and started gathering my things. I checked my watch, and it was 7:45. Emmett would have vacated the office by now, and I could escape there for the next few minutes. Tanya was glaring at me, but I saw the gleam in her eye. She was going to take the opportunity to ridicule me at least a little bit. I sighed when I heard her clear her throat for the second salvo.

"Big plans, tonight?" she asked innocently. I didn't look at her as I shoved my papers back in my shoulder bag.

"Sorry to take up your space, Tanya. Emmett was here working in the office this morning, too, so I had to spread out. I'll head back to the office now," I hoisted the bag onto my shoulder and turned away, but she wouldn't have it.

"You didn't answer my question," she persisted, intent on humiliating me. I kept my back to her and took several steps away, heading back toward the faculty hallway. I was happy to make her wait and considering not answering at all, but I was stopped in my tracks.

"Yes, I'm quite interested in the answer to that question as well," a smooth male voice interjected. I wish I could say the voice was unfamiliar. I wish I could say that I didn't recognize the rich baritone immediately, but I can't, even if it had been six years since the last time I'd heard it in person. I'd indulged in it many times on the television during that time. My head whipped back to its source instantly.

He was standing with his elbows on the counter of the nurses' station, his hands clasped in between. I hated myself for honing in on the ring finger of his left hand but felt relief when I saw it was bare. The expression on his face was amused, but there was a hard edge to his gaze that hadn't been there the last time I saw him. Our eyes were locked, and I was sure my mouth was hanging open unattractively. Tanya recovered first.

"Oh my God, you're Edward Masen," she gushed breathlessly. He cast his eyes down modestly, but I could tell he was enjoying her response. His eyes flicked back to me briefly and then focused on her. He could always recognize a sympathetic audience. He smiled at her indulgently and opened his mouth to answer, but I interrupted.

"What are you doing back here?" I demanded. "You shouldn't be back here without an escort." He stepped back from the counter and placed his hands in his pockets, his trademark smirk in full effect.

"Your lovely receptionist, Jessica, I believe it was, said I could come straight back. I wanted to avoid any scenes in the waiting area when your other patients begin arriving," he explained guilelessly. "She said Dr. Cullen was already in and happy to see me before the scheduled time." Now he removed his hands from his pockets and held them up in a gesture of surrender. The smirk remained.

I took a moment to study him. His copper colored hair was in disarray as usual, as if he'd just run his hands through it. A hint of a tan made his green eyes seem impossibly more verdant. He was wearing a white button up linen shirt untucked over a pair of jeans. I couldn't see his feet, but I knew he'd be wearing sandals or flip-flops. He'd once told me that he hated shoes and avoided them at all cost, a consequence of growing up used to Texas winters. I closed my eyes briefly hoping I'd open them and find this all a figment of my imagination.

Nope. Tanya was watching us now, looking back and forth curiously. She could obviously tell we had met before. She simpered and pushed her cleavage toward him.

"Yes, sir, Dr. Cullen is in his office. Dr. Swan will let him know you're here. Have a seat over here, and I'll get your vital signs and get you checked in. We can have you through in no time. We are quite practiced with VIPs here at Baylor. Everything will be discrete; don't worry," she told him. She motioned to a chair in the vitals area and turned her back on me. He reluctantly followed her instructions but kept his eyes on me. I broke eye contact and turned as fast as possible and disappeared down the hall toward Carlisle's office. Somebody better start explaining.

My office was empty, Emmett long gone, when I passed by. Sure enough, Carlisle was tapping away at his computer keyboard, probably trolling through his morning emails when I burst in.

"Did you forget to tell me about a VIP this morning?" I demanded without a greeting. Carlisle whipped around in surprise with his mouth slightly open and his reading glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose. When he saw it was I in the doorway, a startled frown appeared.

"Bella, goodness gracious, you startled me," he chided. "Yes, we have a VIP. Is he already here?" he asked. Carlisle tried to maintain the fellow-attending relationship, but we'd come to know each other so well over the last seven years, it was really futile. I had been a third year medical student when he arrived from Dartmouth as a brand new attending. We had navigated the department together. I mean, he tolerated me calling him by his first name. I was a lost cause.

"Yes, he's here," I confirmed impatiently. "It's Edward Masen. Why is he in my clinic?" Carlisle's frown deepened.

"Well," he drew the word out, obviously annoyed with me, "it's _my_ clinic, and not _yours _for starters, but I think the answer you are looking for is that he has a chronic elbow tendonitis." He tried to glare at me, but Lord help him, he was too nice to scare anyone.

"Edward Masen plays for Atlanta," I perseverated. Now Carlisle just looked confused.

"Bella, I have never known you to be star struck. Hakeem Olajuwon was in here just last week, for God's sake!" Carlisle exclaimed. I shook my head in an effort to clear it and sank into the fabric-covered chair across from his desk. His confusion had turned to concern. His forehead was wrinkled, and the gray hidden in the blonde hair at his temples was more obvious. I sighed, realizing he would need some sort of explanation.

"I know him," I muttered. "I mean, I've met him before. I guess I was surprised to see him. But why is he all the way out here?" Carlisle looked at me appraisingly, seeming to turn over his answer.

"Do you know him from Rice?" he asked suddenly. That struck a little to close to the heart of the matter, so I just shook my head, not trusting my voice. Carlisle nodded.

"Of course not, you would have been long gone by the time he was the star pitcher at Rice University," he mused aloud, and I cringed to hear his assessment. I slouched in the chair. "You graduated in, what? 2005?" I nodded again. He was right on the money. "Masen made the All-Tournament team for the College World Series in 2007 and 2008. You were already at Baylor then. He's quite a bit younger than you."

I gripped the arms of the chair to keep from launching myself across the desk at my beloved mentor. It hurt to hear him describe it that way, all my insecurities confirmed out loud. I dug deep and pulled out my inner sarcastic.

"Sounds like you're the one who's star struck," I commented. Carlisle looked a bit abashed.

"Well, I really enjoy baseball, and I had just moved to Houston when he had his run at Rice. I was trying to fit in down here. You know it was a difficult adjustment," he looked at me meaningfully.

"I'm surprised we never discussed him before. I met you as a third year medical student in 2008; I should have used you to get tickets to a game!" He grinned at me, and we were back to normal, thank God. Little did he know that he had mentioned his interest in Rice baseball many times that particular spring. I had just blown him off and changed the subject repeatedly to avoid the conversation. I was extremely relieved he didn't remember.

"Anyway," Carlisle continued, thankfully forgetting to press me on how I knew Edward, "Masen has battled elbow tendonitis and had a poor post-season last year. He's been traded to the Astros, so he's a local now. Of course, he's here with us."

I opened my mouth to reply but had no idea what to say. So, Edward was back in Houston to stay. I knew he had to be happy about that. He was a hometown hero, and the fans would eat it up. He'd be the next Lance Berkman, if his elbow didn't stop him.

Which brought me back to the original point. Edward was out there with Tanya getting checked in right now. How could I possibly be professional? I didn't know about his trade, but I'd certainly kept tabs on him over the last six years. And I'd thought about him a lot. I exhaled slowly and looked back at Carlisle. He was unaware of my inner turmoil and was finishing up with his emails. His stance showed he was about to stand up from the chair. He looked up.

"I've spoken to Mr. Masen on the phone several times. He seems very laid back, so I don't think he'd have a problem with a fellow starting the exam. Do you want to go on and get started? That way we can get him in and out before the waiting area gets crowded." There was absolutely no way I could refuse without triggering major warning bells with Carlisle, and I really didn't want to discuss the past with him.

"Sure," I managed to say without my voice cracking and stood. I robotically walked back down the hall toward the nurses' station in search of our VIP patient.

I found Edward Masen seated on an exam table in the room closest to the back exit. At least Tanya was smart enough to make that arrangement. He could slip out the employee entrance when we were done and avoid the prying eyes of the public. As a 2012 Cy Young finalist, he was very recognizable.

He was seated on the crackly paper covering the table with his legs swinging over the edge. Flip flops were lying haphazardly on the floor by the table where he'd obviously kicked them off. He had removed his shirt, and his broad chest and strong shoulders were on prominent display. He was a bit tan for February, and I wondered what sort of tropical vacations he'd been enjoying. I gulped and forced myself to enter.

Tanya was trilling flirtily with her hand on his forearm. He was nodding at her ridiculous chatter and obviously staring at her chest. A strong emotion rose in me at the sight, but I pushed it down before I could examine it too closely. She had to be fifteen years older than him, and I contemplated pointing that out when she left, but I'm not that big of a hypocrite.

I cleared my throat loudly, and two pairs of eyes shot to me. Tanya looked angry and annoyed at the interruption, but Edward looked a little embarrassed, at least I hoped so.

"OK, Tanya, we're good here, so you can head back to the nurses' station and get ready for the rest of the schedule. I'm going to get started with Mr. Masen, and Dr. Cullen will be in shortly." I turned toward Edward and addressed him as if it were our first time meeting. "I'm Dr. Swan, and I'm Dr. Cullen's fellow. I'm going to be assisting him in the evaluation today." I desperately hoped that sounded levelheaded and professional. At least Tanya huffed and left without argument. We stared at each other in silence for what felt like several minutes. He broke it.

"Aren't you supposed to ask me questions and actually touch my arm?" he asked cheekily. I sighed and approached the exam table.

"Edward, I'm sorry about before. I was just surprised to see you. I hadn't heard about the trade," I admitted. He looked disappointed.

"You don't follow the Astros anymore?" he asked. I shook my head.

"No, I do, but sometimes I get really busy." I shrugged. "It's the off-season," I said in explanation. He nodded but I couldn't tell if he thought that was an acceptable excuse.

"You've done well. I've been happy to watch your success," I blurted, admitting more than I wished. He shrugged himself and didn't meet my eyes.

"Well, it's been good. I really liked Jackson and Atlanta, but I'm glad to be home in Houston," he finally said. I pulled myself together and addressed why he was here.

"Of course, so let's get this elbow back on track. Now give me a brief description of what's gone on with it," I fell back on my doctor persona and proceeded to take a history, taking refuge in my routine. Edward patiently answered everything, and I took notes on the tablet we used in the exam rooms. Once we were done, Carlisle still hadn't arrived, so I forced myself to stand right in front of Edward. I tentatively reached out to touch his left forearm but was forced to jerk my hand back when contact with his skin stung my hand. We stared at each other with consternation. Nothing had changed.

"Sorry," I murmured, and forced myself to compartmentalize and go through the elbow exam as I had done many times before. His skin felt so good under my fingers. I began at his shoulder, allowing my fingertips to carefully palpate the acromioclavicular joint, the head of the humerus, and its articulation with the scapula. Then, I placed pressure over the long head of biceps and tested his rotator cuff strength.

I kept my eyes fixed firmly on his arm and did not allow myself to look at his face. I tried not to remember other times I'd run my fingers over his skin. His chest seemed broader now, and maybe he was a little taller. It had been six years, and he'd only been twenty-one when I saw him last.

I moved onto his wrist, dutifully examining the joints above and below the one in question. I tested his flexion and extension strength and probed sensation in his fingers and hand. Then, I finally honed in on the elbow. Flexion and extension seemed normal, but his supination/pronation seemed slightly inhibited. He winced perceptibly when I palpated directly over the ulnar collateral ligament. The moving valgus stress test was positive, when I gently moved his elbow through various positions.

Finally, I withdrew my hands and stepped back. I thought I heard him sigh when we lost contact with each other, but I probably imagined that. When I finally got the nerve to meet his eyes, I looked at his face, and the smirk was back.

"What?" I demanded. He smiled broadly.

"I never told you which elbow was bothering me. You just assumed it was the left one," he said. I gaped at him.

"But, you're a left-handed pitcher. Of course, it's your left elbow," I exclaimed. His smile broadened.

"You remembered. It's been a while, so I'm flattered," he stated simply. I opened my mouth to argue, but was forced to look away before he could see my blush. Carlisle picked that moment to joint us. I handed him the tablet without a word, and he quickly glanced over it before looking up.

"Good morning, Mr. Masen," he greeted, shaking Edward's hand vigorously. Edward stayed seated on the exam table. "I'm so glad to finally meet you in person. I've reviewed all the information forwarded by Dr. Marcus, and I'm in complete agreement with his treatment plan. We'll stick with intensive physical therapy through the next 10 weeks. I know that puts you out of Spring Training, but I think it's the best course of action." Edward's face was deadly serious now, and he nodded gravely. My presence was obviously forgotten.

"That's what I discussed with Dr. Marcus, and I'm still on board with it. It's great to meet you, too," Edward answered Carlisle.

"Now, let me just take a look at this elbow and make sure there are no surprises." Carlisle took a step forward and reached for Edward's arm, but Edward shied back just a little.

"Dr. Swan has already given me a thorough exam," he objected with a small smile at me. Carlisle smiled, but I could see a tightening around his eyes. He didn't look at me.

"I'm sure she has. It's well documented here," Carlisle indicated what I'd entered on the tablet regarding the exam, "but as the attending physician, I'm obligated." Edward acquiesced, and Carlisle began his exam. He addressed me without looking up.

"Dr. Swan, why don't you go ahead and start on the other clinic patients, so we don't get too far behind?" Carlisle dismissed me, but I was glad to go. The whole thing was too overwhelming. I hoped he didn't think I'd been unprofessional with Edward. That last statement could have been construed as a double entendre.

There were already several exam rooms filled with patients, and I was instantly busy, moving from room to room. I tried to immerse myself in the mundane tasks of running clinic, but my mind was still reeling.

About twenty minutes later, I saw Edward standing at the end of hall when I exited one of the rooms. His hands were stuffed deeply into his pockets, and he was rocking slightly on his flip-flopped feet. Our eyes met, and we stared at each other, neither of us moving, for several seconds. He seemed to be waiting for something, me maybe. He raised his hand, but I wasn't sure if it was a good-bye or a beckoning. I turned toward the next exam room when I saw him do it, and did what I did best when it came to Edward. I walked away from him.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Ah, why not a double dose tonight, eh? Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed, alerted, and favorited. This will now go back in the past for a while before we return to the present day/first chapter.

OK, I'm back with another story. It's a bit different from my previous stuff, but what can I say? My life has been eventful and inspiration strikes from unexpected memories. I'm not an orthopedic surgeon but I entertained that career for many years, and actually did two years of the training. I also did go to both Rice and Baylor. I had a class with Lance Berkman, not Jeff Niemann. I'm way too old to have known him! And if you read this before the voting for the All-Star break ends, then vote for Anthony Rendon (Washington Nationals, who I can't stand—Go Braves!) another stellar Rice grad. Please enjoy.

I forgot to say last chapter that I don't own this. That goes for all future chapters, too.

Chapter 2

_December 20, 2007_

The Texas sun was shining brightly when I exited the Sylvan Learning Center mid afternoon. The beauty of the crisp winter day matched my mood perfectly. It had warmed up since I'd arrived early morning, so I shed the sweatshirt I'd worn in the air-conditioned testing center. Clad in a t-shirt, scrub pants, and flip-flops, I thanked my lucky stars I had decided on medical school in Houston rather than Boston.

I fumbled in my purse for sunglasses as I crossed the parking lot of the suburban strip mall and climbed back in my several years old BMW sedan, a hand-me-down from my mother. Before starting the ignition, I took a deep breath. I was finally done with the most evil (in my opinion) of all licensing exams, the United States Medical Licensing Examination, Step 1. One of the other perks of Baylor College of Medicine, besides the weather, was that students had great flexibility in scheduling their clinical clerkships starting in January of the second year rather than the usual Fall of the third year. I had been able to dedicate the entire month of December to final preparations for the crucial test.

And now I was done. It was a huge weight off my shoulders. My cell phone rang as I merged onto I-45 N to head back into the city. I checked the display and saw it was my best friend and former college roommate at Rice University. I put the phone to my ear and accepted the call.

"Hey, Bella, how'd the test go?" Alice inquired. "Are you so excited to have it behind you?"

"I think it went well," I told her and crossed the fingers resting on the steering wheel even though she couldn't see me. "I guess we'll see in a few weeks when the scores come. Aren't you at work?" Alice had served two years as a teacher with Teach for America in an underprivileged area of the Mississippi delta near where she grew up, but moved back to Houston recently to work as a permanent employee at one of the organization's training institutes.

"No, I just left. The office was practically empty anyway. Everyone is gone for Christmas already," she explained. "We've got to celebrate tonight! I hope you're not too tired."

"What do you have in mind?" I asked as I maneuvered onto the Inner Loop. I was headed to the Galleria to treat myself to a new outfit before going home. I definitely deserved it. "I had a great night's sleep last night. You know you can't truly learn anything by cramming the night before a test like that. I went to bed early." It was a dig at her. She spent countless all-nighters in college, while I had always planned ahead.

"Whatever," she snapped, pretending to be annoyed. "Cindy's having a party," she announced casually.

"What? Alice, I'm not going to a Rice party. That's lame," I complained. Alice's younger sister Cindy was a junior at Rice, following in her older sister's footsteps. Cindy lived O.C., or off-campus, and I'd been to her house many times with Alice. It was a dump.

"C'mon Bella, live a little. It will be fun," she whined. "Cindy's boyfriend is a first year MBA student at UH, and I'm sure he'll bring a bunch of his friends. Plus, the house Cindy and her roommates rent is on Dryden and backs up to another O.C. house on Swift. They've teamed up and torn down the fence between their backyards and are planning a joint Christmas bash. Finals are done at Rice; it's going to be epic!" I groaned at the wheedling tone Alice had adopted. I usually lost arguments when she resorted to that.

"Alice, even with grad students there, we'll still be the oldest ones. We'll stick out like sore thumbs," I tried to reason with her as I pulled into the parking lot by Neiman Marcus.

"Speak for yourself, but I think I'm eternally youthful," she replied haughtily. "You work so hard, and now it's time to reward yourself. Don't you miss the good ol' days now and then?"

"Well, of course, we had some great times back in college, but aren't we trying to be grown ups now? Do you want to be known as the Rice version of Wooderson?" I asked, referring to the iconic character Matthew McConaughey played in the movie Dazed and Confused. Alice scoffed.

"Oh my God, get over yourself and forget about your 401K and 10 year plan for one night. I'm going to Cindy's party, and if you want to sit home in your apartment by yourself, then it's fine with me," she gave the ultimatum. I sighed, knowing I was beat. I resigned myself to an evening of Everclear punch and listening to Cindy's roommates brag about dropping X, which I was sure none of them had ever actually done.

"Fine," I muttered and hung up. I put the car back in reverse and headed back down Westheimer Avenue. There was no need for a new outfit now.

DH-DH-DH-DH-DH-DH-DH

I spent more time than usual agonizing over what to wear. I wanted to look cute but didn't want to look like I was trying too hard. I didn't necessarily want to look twenty-five years old, but I didn't want to look like I was trying for twenty years old either.

I settled on a cotton dress with short sleeves and a v-neck. It fitted to the hips then flared a little, showing some leg. The deep blue was flattering to my pale skin and dark hair, but the shrunken ivory cardigan pulled the look together. Perfect.

The party was supposed to start around 8, but I knew that plenty of people would show up early. Alice was lobbying for arriving around 7 so we could help Cindy set up. I agreed only because arriving early probably meant I could make an excuse to leave early before the main shenanigans began. Cindy's house was only about a mile from my apartment complex. It was already dark, but the area was residential and safe so I decided to walk.

The air was starting to chill but I knew I'd be comfortable in the enclosed spaces of the house dressed this way. I made a pit stop at KFC on the trip, enjoying a twister wrap as my dinner. I definitely needed a full stomach to soak up the cheap, awful liquor that would be added later.

I continued walking along Greenbriar Drive and passed the intersection with Swift Boulevard. I could see one house halfway down the block had people milling around in the front yard. Several cars were parked on the street nearby, and the lawn wasn't up to the standards of the neighbors. This must be the location of the co-sponsors of the party. I wondered who lived there, if they were longtime friends of Cindy and her group or acquaintances of opportunity.

I made the next block and turned onto Dryden. As I'd suspected, the house was already hosting a number of guests. All windows were lit up, and groups of young people were chatting on the front lawn. I was curious about the neighbors and the odds that they would call the cops later. It would be very bad for me if the law arrived, and I was the oldest one in a location with lots of underage drinking. Once again, I resolved to leave early.

I was surprised to see Alice sitting on the stoop with a cigarette hanging out her mouth, and her legs dangling over the edge of the concrete into an un-landscaped plot of dirt. She was seated next to a guy with close-cropped blond curls wearing a red University of Houston t-shirt and khaki shorts. I watched as she took a drag on the cigarette and passed it to the stranger. A dark-haired Hispanic guy on the shorter side, who was in serious need of a haircut, was standing in the dirt beneath Alice and her friend's feet. He was wearing jeans and a UH t-shirt and held the telltale brown bottle with a gold label in his hand.

"Twinsies," I announced sarcastically as I walked up the front path. Alice jumped slightly and turned to face me, her grin spreading as she recognized me as the intruder. "Those things will kill you," I continued nodding toward the cancer stick in the blonde stranger's hand.

"Bella, hey!" Alice greeted enthusiastically. She had obviously been pre-partying. "This is Al Suarez, Cindy's boyfriend," she motioned toward the guy standing in front of her. He lifted his bottle of Shiner Bock in my direction as a greeting. Ah, the MBA student she had mentioned. "This is Jasper Whitlock, Al's friend. He's a business student a UH, too. Guys, this is my friend, Bella Swan," she completed the introductions. Her gaze lingered on Jasper longer than necessary. I sensed I'd be deprived of her company rather early this evening.

"Hey, Bella," Jasper replied politely. "I hear you went to Rice, too." I nodded in response too sober to be very social. Al noticed.

"Bella, what are you drinking?" he asked, as good proxy host should. He didn't actually live here, but I'd wait all night if wanted Cindy to get me a beer.

"Thanks, I'll have a Shiner, too," I responded, and he skirted around the stoop to disappear back inside. I moved to stand in the position in the defunct flowerbed he'd vacated.

"Yeah, I graduated from Rice with Alice. You guys went all out with UH T-shirts tonight, huh?" I responded in an attempt to be social. The cigarette continued to pass between him and Alice. I watched with interest.

"Well, I was forced into it, you know. I couldn't let the Swift guys off the hook," he choked out with an exhale of white smoke. I crinkled my brow in confusion. Alice piped up as she accepted the cigarette back into her hand.

"The Swift house is rented by a bunch of guys from the baseball team," she explained. "Jasper played baseball in college. Cindy got to be friends with the Swift house guys through Al and then Jasper," she explained and took another heavy drag. Jasper chuckled.

"I hope you won't hold it against me," he joked. The butt was cashed, and he dropped it on the ground at my feet. He raised an eyebrow at me, and I crushed it with the toe of my sandal. "Thanks," he said.

Rice baseball was an institution. Even though our school was known more for its academics, we'd been a force to be reckoned with for years on the baseball front. We won the national championship in 2003 between my sophomore and junior years, and it had been a huge event.

My junior year I'd had a class with Jeff Niemann, one of the starting pitchers on the team. It had been an art history class known for the fact it required only one ten-page paper for the entire semester, albeit a very toughly graded paper. Jeff had been friendly, and we'd chatted a number of times, mostly regarding the eccentricity of the professor. The class was minimal work, but very hard to make an A. I'd needed it for my major, but Jeff obviously only needed it to pass and stay eligible. He entered the draft (and was taken in the first round) but never graduated, hence my impression of Rice baseball players.

I didn't think they could possibly measure up to the academic standards of the rest of the student body. Sure, they were probably a little smarter than the guys who went to state schools, but Rice couldn't be that successful in baseball without lowering the standards a little bit, right? Hey, I was just as proud of the team's success as the next alum, but it didn't stop me from rolling my eyes when I learned I was at a baseball party. Unfortunately, Alice read the expression on my face.

"Don't worry, these guys are cool," she assured me. "There will be no couch-throwing tonight." She was referring to another Rice first round draft pick who had notoriously thrown a couch off of the top of Sid Richardson college back in the 1990's. I snorted and decided Al was taking far to long with my beer.

"I'm gonna head in and look for a little alcohol," I told my companions. "I think I definitely deserve it tonight." I half expected Alice to offer to come with me, but she didn't. I'd need to grill her later. She was obviously interested in this Jasper guy.

It was full on dark by the time I climbed up the concrete stairs and entered the house, passing behind Jasper and Alice, who had heads together and were in deep conversation the instant I moved on. The front room was like I remembered it. It was furnished with old, mismatched sofas and a giant screen TV with video game equipment and a tangle of wires beneath it. There were already more people than I expected loitering around enjoying the deafening music and free drinks. A cooler filled with a suspiciously blue liquid was shoved into the corner with a stack of red Solo cups next to it. The cup designated as the "scooper" floated alone in the mess.

Hardwood stairs with a peeling wooden bannister made their way up the edge of the room. I knew the bedrooms were upstairs, and I had no desire to explore up there. The hardwood floors and complex painted moldings were beautiful but scratched, a testament to the "good bones" of the homes in this neighborhood. Cindy's neighbors were wealthy professionals with immaculate lawns and facades. Cindy's landlord was probably the child of the previous owners looking to make a buck on the rental market or too lazy to sell. These houses dotted the streets surrounding Rice, and for the most part, no one complained. A lot of the neighborhood either taught or graduated from Rice, so they tolerated the neighborhood pariah.

The windows were open, but I wasn't sure if it was because there was no air conditioning or because people were smoking inside with abandon. I quickly decided I needed to stay outside. I entered the kitchen and found Al standing in front of an open refrigerator. Cindy was standing behind the door, peering into the interior.

"Hey, Cindy, thanks for inviting me," I greeted politely. Cindy had been a freshman during my first year at Baylor, while Alice was back teaching in Mississippi. I had done my best to keep an eye on her as Alice would have done, but she had given me little appreciation since I had refused to buy her alcohol. Not that I hadn't consumed my fill as an underage freshman, I just couldn't be the one who did the corrupting of my best friend's younger sister.

"Oh, hey, Bella, thanks for coming," she said when she saw me standing behind them. "I'm surprised you took a break from studying to come over. I didn't think it would be your scene." Cindy was a little full of herself and might still be a little resentful of the no-alcohol-buying policy. Al shrugged a little, obviously embarrassed by Cindy's less than subtle dig.

"Sorry, I took so long, Bella," he interrupted. "It looks like we're out of bottled Shiner. There's a keg in the back yard that's just been tapped," he gestured out the back door of the kitchen into the newly expanded yard.

"Sure, that sounds great, Al, thanks," I told him smiling. My smile tightened a little as I turned to Cindy despite my best efforts. "I just finished a big test today, and I'm done until January. Alice promised me a good time, so here I am." Cindy grimaced and took a long sip of the Tequiza she was holding.

"Knock yourself out," she answered gesturing toward the backyard with the lip of her bottle. I moved on without responding. I didn't see anyone else inside that I recognized or even looked old enough to be drinking. I could hear Al's voice as I opened the white wooden door to the backyard; it sounded slightly scolding, but I didn't really care one way or the other what he was saying to Cindy.

The back stoop was concrete like the front and without a railing. I carefully made my way down the crumbling three stairs into the grass, if it could be called that. Obviously, no one was looking after the space, and the grass was burned and absent in patches all over. The two combined yards were impressive in size, and I could see where the dividing fences still stood behind the houses to either side. It was pretty dark, but tiki torches had been shoved into the ground at random intervals, and some party lights were strung overhead from the two live oaks in the back. I had to walk carefully, even in December, to avoid the fire ant hills.

Several guys were crowded around the keg but stepped back a bit as I approached. They were all dressed in jeans and t-shirts with baseball caps shoved tight down over their ears. Obviously, the baseball players, I decided. A dark-skinned Hispanic boy stepped forward, being the bravest of the bunch, I guess.

"Can I get you a beer?" he offered politely. I nodded as he concentrated on pumping. He'd obviously done it before and quickly offered me a nearly foam-free cup of Shiner. I smiled and thanked him, feeling uncomfortable with four sets of eyes on me. I figured they were waiting on me to introduce myself, throw myself at them and their potential major league careers.

I never developed the gift of gab with strangers, so I chickened out on what was probably socially acceptable and walked away toward a set of rusting iron outdoor furniture which had been set up near the back steps of the Swift house. I knew it was probably the baseball guys' territory, but I didn't see anyplace else suitable for staying out of the way out here, and I had no desire to search for Alice and Jasper out front again.

I sat down and took a sip of my beer, hoping to sit unmolested for a while and enjoy the warm weather this evening. I should have known that would be a fat chance. One of the boys from the keg appeared next to me and sat down in one of the other iron wrought chairs.

"Hey," he said simply and took a sip of his own beer. I nodded my head noncommittally, still hoping he'd leave. He didn't.

"I don't think we've met. I'm Edward," he introduced himself. I was forced to look more closely at him and re-registered what I'd already seen. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt with loose jeans. They were artfully worn, especially at the hems, probably expensive. I was surprised to note that he was barefoot. This disarmed me, and I accidentally looked him in the eye. His eyes were a bright, emerald color and actually quite mesmerizing. I shook my head to try and clear it. Obviously, the Shiner was getting to me. I hadn't had a beer in some time.

"Where are your shoes?" I blurted. He smiled broadly, pleased to have gotten me to speak.

"I don't like shoes. Never wear them if I can help it," he pronounced with a smirk. I noticed his hair was brown but shone with reddish highlights even in the dim tiki torchlight. It was too long and curled over his ears underneath the blue hat emblazoned with the stylized "R" of Rice. The brim was pulled low to his eyebrows but did nothing to hide those astounding eyes.

"Well, I guess you have to be pretty careful out here then," I observed, taking a sip of my beer, trying to hide my discomfort. His brown crinkled. I couldn't actually see that happen since the brim of his hat was so low, but it dipped even further so I just surmised.

"Ant hills," I clarified, gesturing towards the minefield laid out between the two houses. He snorted and spit beer onto the grass and proceeded to laugh with abandon. It hadn't been that funny.

"Wow, I never thought our conversation would be about fire ants," he said once he had control of himself. I shrugged.

"What did you think we'd talk about? How much I love baseball and admire your work?" I asked sarcastically. He lifted his eyebrows, and I could see his face better.

"Do you love baseball and admire my work?" he asked in retort. I exhaled in annoyance. I really just wanted to enjoy a beer or two and walk home. Finally, I shook my head at him.

"I admit that I'm a huge Astros fan, but I don't know who you are so I can't admire your work. I assume you're a baseball player since I was told this house was rented by guys from the team," I gestured toward the Swift house to illustrate my point. Edward let out a disbelieving huff.

"You don't know who I am?" he asked incredulously. It was my turn to huff, also incredulously.

"No, I don't. I'm too old to concern myself with college bullshit. I'm a medical student, and I deal with life and death on a daily basis. I only agreed to come to this party as a favor, and I'm not really interested in company. Move on, there are plenty of other undergrads who will be breathless to hear why you feel the need to go barefoot," I ranted. He didn't get up like I expected but slouched further on the chair and smirked at me again.

"You must be Cindy's sister's friend," he observed. This casual statement made me furious.

"What makes you say that?" I spat.

"Well, because Cindy said her sister was cool, but her best friend was a medical student and completely uptight. She didn't mention how beautiful you were, though," he finished with a different sort of smile. I shot up immediately from the iron chair, knocking it over.

"Oh my God, are you serious?" I asked rhetorically and started to storm away. He called after me immediately.

"Sorry, sorry, please come back. I'll behave, I swear. You didn't even get halfway through your beer," he pleaded. He actually sounded a little sorry, and he was quite right about the beer. I did want to finish it. Edward leaned forward and set my chair back upright while I retrieved the beer from the ground. I took a long drink before settling back into the seat. I planned to empty the cup in record time, but my chugging days were over.

"I'm really sorry," he repeated with kind of a grumble to his voice. "It is just novel to meet someone who has no agenda with me." I was a little taken aback by his change in tone. My curiosity got the best of me, wondering whom I had stumbled upon this evening. I took another drink of Shiner.

"So, please enlighten me. Who are you then?" I asked, aware I was possibly playing into his hands with the question. "You seemed happy enough to ply me with beer when you thought I was a wide-eyed groupie." I added that statement to let him know he wasn't off the hook. He had the decency to look a little sheepish.

"I'm Edward Masen," he replied. "I'm the lead starting pitcher for the Rice baseball team, but I guess you'd already guessed some of that." He took a long drink from his beer and leaned against the back of the chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him. "I'm more interested in your name now, though." He added with a raised eyebrow.

I considered his answer. I had told the truth when I mentioned my devotion to the Astros. This year had not been good to my team, and I had mourned the loss of Jeff Bagwell like every good fan at the end of the 2006 season. I'd been so busy the last few years that I couldn't spare much interest in sports other than my beloved Astros. So, I hadn't really kept up with Rice baseball. I knew we remained good, but I didn't know any of the players' names since I no longer went to the school. Sad, really, since I walked past the stadium at least once a week.

"I'm Bella," I finally said, deciding to throw him a bone. He was probably harmless. I'd never talk to him again after tonight.

"Bella," he said slowly, drawing the L sound out. "That's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl," he declared. I grimaced at him.

"Does that usually work?" I asked him. He laughed again, that uninhibited sound. I decided he had a nice laugh. And I nice smile, too, I noticed.

"I don't usually have to resort to compliments, Bella." He seemed to like saying my name for some reason. I snorted.

"At least you don't have to worry about modesty," I commented and took another drink of beer. I would reach the bottom soon. He smiled even wider, showing me rows of perfectly white and straight teeth.

"I take it Edward Masen doesn't ring a bell," he prodded. I shook my head, feeling absurdly proud it was a true statement. He really needed a dose of reality. He took another swig of his beer and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, looking at me from under the brim of that ridiculous hat.

"Well, did you know Rice almost made it to the finals of the College World Series last year?" he asked. I shook my head again.

"Well, we did, and I was one of the starting pitchers, the only one returning for next season. I'm a junior, so I'll probably be drafted at the end of the season. A lot of people are looking to get a piece of me," he told me without a trace of awareness about how arrogant that sounded.

"Edward," I tried out his name, and it made the smile reappear, but what I said next wiped it right off, "we won the College World Series when I was sophomore. I had a class with Jeff Neimann, so I'm not really all that impressed. From what I hear, he'll be in the Majors next year." I leaned back and took the last sip of my beer. I sat the cup on the ground next to me in preparation for leaving.

"Wait, you're not going, are you?" he exclaimed, grabbing my wrist. I pulled it away with a pointed look at his hand on my arm. His smile turned sheepish, and he muttered another apology and dropped his hand back to his side. He let out a sigh and pulled the hat off his head. The strands sprung in every direction once freed from the hat. It was an impressive, thick head of hair with a hint of waviness, and he ran his hands through it in frustration.

"Look, I'm being such an asshole. You can't leave now; you have to give me a chance to redeem myself. I'll get us another beer, and we can talk, have a real conversation. You're a medical student, right? So that means you're smart. I bet you have lots of interesting things to say." He shoved the hat back on his head during this plea, and the gesture along with the words made him look so young and insecure. I suddenly felt bad for him, and all the pressure that was undoubtedly being placed upon him. Why not? I thought. I reminded myself that I'd never see him again, and it felt like an innocuous way to pass some time.

"Okay, Edward, I'm game for another beer, but you better get to work redeeming yourself quickly," I begrudgingly told him. His eyes lit up in a gratifying way, and he hurried over to the keg with our cups. There were a few people who seemed to be ahead of him in line, but they dissolved away when he approached the tap. Must be nice, I thought. He returned very quickly and handed my cup back to me.

"So, tell me about medical school," he requested as he returned to his seat. He had caught the attention of a few girls, undoubtedly underage, during his trip to the keg. They stood around with the group of guys stationed there, but their gazes kept drifting to where we sat, definitely interested in what Edward was doing. I figured I wouldn't have his attention for long and could make a quick escape as soon as he was distracted.

"Not much to tell," I replied taking a sip of the now full cup. "I'm a third year student, and I just finished the first part of the big standardized licensing exam today."

"And how did you end up at this party as a favor then? Didn't your boyfriend want to take you out to celebrate?" He tried to frown but I could tell he thought his segue was clever. I glared at him.

"I don't have a boyfriend; I'm too busy for that," I told him sternly, "and, it was a favor to Alice, Cindy's sister. She really wanted to be here and conned me in to coming, too. I'm starting to understand her motivation," I muttered darkly. He nodded in comprehension.

"Jasper Whitlock is completely into her," he stated as a fact. I raised my eyebrows, definitely interested. "He went to Bellaire High School and was a few years ahead of me on the baseball team there. He ended up at UH. His brother Peter was my year. He plays for UT now. The enemy," Edward chuckled, referring to the growing rivalry between Rice and Texas.

"Wow, that's incestuous," I declared. "So, Cindy started dating Al, who went to Rice undergrad but UH for grad school. Then, Al met Jasper, whose brother went to high school with you, and suddenly you guys realized that Cindy and her roommates lived behind you?" He chuckled at my analysis.

"That about sums it up. Houston is a small world, if you've lived here as long as I have," he admitted. I scoffed.

"I've obviously lived here just as long," I told him.

"Really? Are you from Houston, too?" he asked. I nodded.

"Born and mostly raised. I went to Episcopal," I answered, hedging on details he didn't need to know. He smiled widely, showing his perfect teeth again.

"Ooh, ritzy," he proclaimed. I shook my head in mock disgust.

"Whatever, don't they buy cars for their baseball players at Bellaire?" I asked. Bellaire High School was a public school but it had a reputation as a topnotch baseball program. Edward laughed at my sarcasm.

"Touche," he teased back while taking another sip of his beer. "So, what's your specialty going to be?" he asked unexpectedly.

"Oh, um, I think orthopedic surgery," I told him, surprised that he was sticking to his word about a "real conversation."

"If I keep pitching, I might need your services some day," he said seriously. I looked at him sharply.

"Have you been injured?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Nope, healthy as a horse, but you never know in high level sports, right? Any day could be your last day. If I end up in the National League I might hurt myself batting, you know." He sipped his beer pensively, staring deep into his cup, and I felt sorry for him again. He definitely was under a lot of pressure. I wanted to change the subject.

"So, you think you'll enter the draft this year?" Edward nodded and looked up at me. His eyes were very, very green.

"Yeah, that's the plan, as long as we do well in the post-season. I just turned 21 a few months ago, and I'm a junior so I meet the criteria," he replied, that insolent grin returning.

"Won't you be sorry to miss out on a degree?" I asked, horrified to have his age confirmed for me. He shook his head.

"I can always go back and get it later. I'll refer you to my previous statement about the uncertainty of the future in high-level sports. I more concerned about whether I end up somewhere with a designated hitter," he retorted. I looked at him more closely. He may try to hide it, but there was a sharp intelligence in his face. I was glad I'd had a chance to get to know him a little bit, even if he was incorrigible.

"Cheating, the designated hitter," I declared. He smiled widely. "Well, Edward, it was nice to talk to you, but I think I've done my due diligence. I'm going sneak out before Alice realizes I'm gone," I was surprised by the level of disappointment I saw in his face, but he didn't try to stop me, just stood up with me.

"I'll walk you to your car," he declared. I shook my head.

"No, that's not necessary, but thank you. I'm walking," I told him and started to walk toward Cindy's back door.

"Wait!" he grabbed my wrist again, but I didn't mind it as much this time. "Where do you live? It's dark now."

"The Greenbriar," I told him, and he looked appalled.

"No way, I'm walking with you," he insisted.

"You can't leave your own party," I argued, unsettled by the idea of the two of us alone in the dark. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. He was way too young for me. "Plus, I've lived there for over two years, and I've walked this way plenty of times. It's fine."

"No, Bella, there is nothing you can say to persuade me to let you walk home alone in the dark. Let's go," he motioned toward the back door of his own house. I glanced around the backyard and saw no one I recognized. The keg girls were glaring at me. I saw no alternative.

"Okay, I guess," I acquiesced uneasily. The smile that split his face was almost blinding.

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As always thanks for reading. Please review if you see fit.

EG


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has been so kind and review this new story. Special thanks to Evilnat and Nicffwhisperer who recommended it on Twitter and Facebook.

To clarify for non-American readers, Bella is 25, and Edward is 21 in the "past" chapters. Our medical education system is thus: 4 years of college, 4 years of medical school, then residency. Orthopedic surgery residency is 5 years. Bella's Sports Fellowship is a sixth year tacked on past residency. Sorry, I know it's confusing, and I have noticed that many American fan fiction writers mix this up, too. Bella is 31, and Edward is 27 in the "present chapters."

And, many of you have expressed dismay that Bella is so concerned about such a small age difference. I hear you! But this Bella has many issues, which will become apparent as the story moves on. I'm not saying I agree with her. However, she could seriously jeopardize her future by being caught in a location where underage drinking is occurring, so she's right about that one thing.

Let's continue…

**Chapter 3**

_December 21-25, 2007_

Edward led me up the back stairs through the door into the kitchen of his house. He paused just inside and slipped his feet into a pair of discarded blue Havaianas that were lying there. I realized I'd been staring at his bare toes when I looked up to see his smirk. I shrugged; he did have nice looking feet.

I followed him on through the kitchen where a couple of guys were clustered over a pizza box lying on the island. They looked at us curiously but said nothing. Edward ignored them. I noticed the house was laid out similarly to Cindy's house and seemed about the same age. It was cleaner than expected for a bunch of college guys, but since they were baseball players, maybe they had a maid who came by.

Several more guys were crowded onto chairs and couches set up in front of a giant TV in the living room. They were absorbed in some sort of video game war, shouting at it and each other. We walked past them without comment, and Edward opened the front door, motioning for me to go out ahead of him. I thought that one of the guys may have yelled something after us, but Edward didn't turn around or acknowledge it.

We crossed the surprisingly well-kept lawn and started down the sidewalk in the direction of Greenbriar Drive. I wondered again if they mowed their own grass or had someone come and do it for them. Edward's head was down watching his flip-flops slap the sidewalk, and his hands were shoved deep in his jeans pockets. The temperature had dropped the further we went from sunset, and I crossed my arms over my chest feeling a chill despite my sweater. We walked up the block in silence, and I opened my mouth to tell him once again that he didn't need to leave his party to walk with me. But he spoke first.

"I guess your parents are pretty proud of you," he said into the darkness, still looking at the sidewalk. I was unable to stop the scoff that escaped as a result of his comment. He looked up at me in surprise.

"They're not?" he asked. I shook my head.

"No, um, sorry. I'm sure they are on some level, but my parents are just kind of a sore subject," I answered. Definitely not something I wanted to talk about now, I mentally added. However, Edward's interest was piqued.

"I don't mean to pry," he said in a way that made me think he really did. "I'm just trying to get to know you better, Bella."

"I don't know why. I doubt we'll ever see each other again. We don't exactly run in the same circles," I replied a bit harshly. He gave me a small smile.

"Maybe, but I find you very interesting," he responded. All traces of the cocky asshole from the party were gone, a fact I found a little unsettling.

"My mom is a cardiac nurse," I found myself explaining against my will. "I was born in Houston, but we moved down south when I was very small. My mom and I moved back to Houston when I was twelve from Brownsville. My dad was Border Patrol; he died on the job. She got a cushy job at Texas Heart Institute up here and found herself a cardiothoracic surgeon in less than a year. I lived with the two of them through high school." I figured the beer had affected me more than I thought since I blurted that explanation out, unable to filter myself. I fell silent in embarrassment. Edward was silent for a few steps but spoke softly in response.

"My dad's a doctor." I was grateful that he absorbed my sob story and changed the subject, so I grabbed on to his statement.

"Really? Where?" I asked. He raised his face to smile at me.

"Hermann," he answered simply, referring to the prestigious hospital associated with the University of Texas Houston. "He's a burn surgeon." My eyes widened, and I couldn't help but be impressed. Not only was that a competitive subspecialty, it was selfless and heartbreaking.

"Wow," was all I could manage to say. Edward nodded like he understood my sentiment. "So are your parents proud of you?" I asked, turning the tables on him. He smirked at me under the low brim of his hat. I had the sudden urge to pull it off his head so I could see his face better. I had no idea where it had come from and avoided it down fervently. Luckily, he answered without a fuss, distracting me.

"Yes, I'd say so. They've always been supportive, if a little overbearing. We lived in River Oaks, but they bought a house and moved so I could qualify to play for Bellaire High School. I'll be sad when I'm drafted that they can't come to all my games like they always have. My dad's busy, so they can't really travel," he explained.

"My parents live in River Oaks," I exclaimed before I could help myself. He smiled triumphantly.

"See, we have more in common than you'll admit!" he crowed. "My parents moved back to the old house once I went to Rice." I let a small chuckle escape at his gleeful response. "What street? Maybe I'll walk past your house on Christmas morning," he teased, but it caused me to frown.

"Willowick," I answered tersely, "but I won't be there on Christmas morning. I'll be at my apartment." Edward slowed his walk, and it annoyed me. I was ready to be home and away from his intrusive questions. But he wasn't done yet.

"So you don't get along with your mom and step-dad?" he asked.

"Brilliant deduction," I snapped. I felt a flicker of remorse when I saw Edward's face fall. It did seem like he really was trying to be nice, but I didn't apologize.

"Sorry, it just seems like they would be happy that you're going into the medical field like them. I can't believe you're going to spend Christmas alone," he lamented. I stopped walking and whirled to face him. He turned toward me, too, startled by my sudden movement.

"Don't you dare feel sorry for me," I said steadily. "I'm living my dream, and nothing will stop me; I've worked too hard. They can't understand why I've chosen orthopedics. Cardiothoracic is the most difficult and exclusive subspecialty according to most, and they want me to do that. So I avoid their negativity. In case you haven't noticed, Edward, I'm an adult. I'm twenty-five years old, old enough to be married, to have kids even. Adults don't always see family for the holidays."

Edward responded to my speech by removing his hat and running his fingers through his hair again. I thought this might be a nervous habit for him. His eyes never left mine. I forced mine away finally and started walking again moving a few steps ahead of him. But he was too tall and was even with me again in just a few seconds.

"I'm not a child, Bella," he rebuked me, "and I'm sorry you're unhappy." I scoffed.

"I'm not unhappy." I insisted. He eyed me skeptically as we approached the corner of Main Street. Then, his face split into a mischievous grin.

"Let's go into Albertsons and buy some beer. You definitely need to relax. There's got to be a pool at The Greenbriar, right? We can sit out there and have a few," he suggested. He glanced down Main a few blocks where the lights of Albertsons shone. Just then the light changed on the crosswalk, and I took off across Main and away from the grocery store before he could say anything more. He followed me with a muttered curse. We were only a block away from my apartment complex now. He overtook me and blocked my path.

"What the hell, Bella?" he demanded.

"Edward, I told you that I wanted to go home and that I didn't need an escort. I really meant that. I'm not going to buy beer with you, and we're not going to keep drinking. You need to go back to your party with people your own age." I told him patiently. He was undeterred but allowed me to start walking again.

"Bella, I'm not that much younger than you are," he told me sullenly, highlighting his immaturity in my book.

"You're a college athlete, and I'm a medical student going into a competitive surgical subspecialty. They are different worlds," I tried to explain patiently, but he wasn't having it. We'd reached the pedestrian gate to the complex, and I turned toward him. "Okay we're here. You can go now," I dismissed him, but his eyes were filled with determination.

"No dice, sweetheart," he insisted with insolence. "I'm walking you to your door." The cocky smirk from the party reappeared. I shook my head, but Edward stepped closer to me. I backed up until I felt the metal gate against my shoulder blades. Still, he moved closer until his face hovered only inches from my own. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn't. They were fixed on his bright green ones and wouldn't respond.

"We're not so different," he whispered, and he was so close I could feel his breath tickle my cheek. When his eyes dropped to lips, I wanted to give in. I wanted to close my eyes and let his lips touch my own. I could feel that he wanted to kiss me, and I wanted it, too. But I hadn't gotten this far by giving into whims and desires at every turn. I lifted my hands and shoved his chest. He stepped back in obvious disappointment.

"That may work on most girls, but I'm not a silly college coed, don't forget," I told him. He nodded but didn't back down.

"I'm still going to make sure you get inside your apartment safely," he insisted. I figured the simplest way to make him go was to give in.

"Fine," I spat and turned to key in the code on the gate. I could feel his body close behind my back and hated that I craved the warmth. The latch gave, and I pushed the gate open. Edward followed me through. I turned left and silently followed the sidewalk to the corner building that overlooked Greenbriar Drive and Braes Bayou. I didn't look behind to see if Edward was following me up the stairs to the second floor. My door was just to the left of the first landing. I paused just beside it.

"This is me. I'm not going to invite you in, so don't ask," I said bluntly. He chuckled with a wide smile and dug his hands into his pockets.

"Well, that's some gratitude for the escort, I tell ya," he joked. I frowned.

"I told you I didn't need your assistance, so I don't think you deserve a thanks," I said primly. His grin widened. He raised his arm and ran the fingertips of his right hand along my jaw before I could step back or stop him. I gasped slightly at the electricity I felt from his fingers, and he looked a little taken aback as well.

"Static electricity," I said dumbly and turned to unlock the door. I went inside without a backward glance, but I could hear him chuckle, still standing outside my door.

"Good night, Bella," he called to me, and then I heard his footsteps echoing down the stairs.

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I was antsy after he left, thinking about him more than I should. What was the point? I'd never see him again. I finally drank another beer from my fridge and managed to fall asleep well after 2 AM. I didn't hear from Alice, which surprised me. I figured I'd get a call, reprimanding me for leaving early. But maybe she was wrapped up with Jasper and not thinking of me at all.

I slept in the next morning and took myself to Le Peep for banana waffles as a treat. When I got back home, it was warm enough to sit by the pool in shorts and a t-shirt even though it was December 22. I took a novel, something I hadn't had time to read in ages and settled myself on one of the plastic loungers. I was well into it when my cell phone rang. It was Alice.

"Hey, are you on the road?" I asked without a greeting. She was supposed to be driving to Mississippi with Cindy this afternoon.

"Yeah," she answered shortly. "Cindy's passed out in the back. She indulged a bit too much last night. I guess we'll have to stop somewhere outside of Jackson for her to get her act together." I laughed. Typical, self-centered Cindy.

"Nice," I responded as Alice huffed in disgust. "So, why didn't you tell me you were into that Jasper guy. I suppose that was the real reason you wanted to go to the party. There was no need to drag me into it," I scolded. Alice was silent for a beat too long.

"Bella, I'm not even going to respond to that statement. You're getting more antisocial by the day. I'm not sure I even know you anymore," she said seriously. Her words stung a bit, but she went on. "Yeah, I like Jasper a lot. After last night, I guess you could say we're dating. I'll be back in town on Tuesday, and we're going to grab some dinner." She didn't say more, just waited on my retort. I didn't have the heart to argue with her.

"Well, Alice, I think that's great," I said simply. "Good luck." The silence stretched a bit again.

"What about you?" she finally asked. "I heard Edward Masen left the party with a mystery brunette very early and never came back."

"What?" I exclaimed a bit too loudly, startling awake the middle-aged man wearing socks with his sandals who was lying several loungers down from me. "He left me at The Greenbriar no later than 10:30. He should have made it back to the party." It was Alice's turn to sound surprised.

"You really left the party with him?" she asked incredulously. "And brought him back to your apartment?"

"No, that's not how it was," I groaned.

"Explain," she demanded shortly.

"I talked to him for a few minutes, but I didn't know anyone at the party, and you were busy with Jasper, so I said I was leaving. He insisted that I not walk alone in the dark, so he walked with me back to The Greenbriar, but I woudn't let him come inside," I detailed. Alice laughed a little, but it was a humorless sound.

"So, one of the hottest guys in town came onto you, and you allowed him to walk you home, then threw him out like a frigid bitch. Do I have that right?" she said sarcastically. Her words irritated me.

"What do you care, Alice?" I asked hotly. "He's twenty-one years old and a famous Rice baseball player. He's hardly an appropriate liaison for me." She laughed again with even more of an edge.

"Bella, you sound like your mother," she declared. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Alice, I've got to go," I ground out. "Have a nice Christmas and drive safe." I hung up before she could respond.

She was wrong about me. I was just being responsible, protecting my future and myself. Why couldn't she see that? I sighed and went back inside to find something on TV to distract my chaotic thoughts.

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Saturday morning I went for a long walk along the paved bayou bike trail. In the afternoon, I went to see the new movie Enchanted at the theater in an attempt to put myself firmly in fantasyland. I felt bad about my fight with Alice, but not enough to call and apologize. I still thought she was mainly in the wrong. I went to Chuy's and got an order of chips and an 8-ounce cup of creamy jalapeno dip and ate the entire thing for dinner. I fell asleep early.

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Sunday morning I went to church at the stately gothic Methodist Church on Main Street. The service was beautiful, and in honor of Christmas Eve, they sang the Hallelujah chorus from Handel's Messiah at the end. That and all the Christmas carols raised my spirits considerably.

But by the time I got home, I was done with relaxing. The itch to study for my upcoming Orthopedics elective was too strong, so I pulled out some medical books and started reviewing anatomy. I was disappointed to be assigned to Carlisle Cullen, the newest attending in the department. I didn't think he'd have much pull in resident selection, and I really wanted to stay at Baylor for my residency. So I figured I'd need to be extra dazzling. I quizzed myself heavily and lost track of time. I was completely startled when there was a knock at my door. It was already after 5 PM.

I was worried it might be my mom, or worse my step-dad, come to make me feel guilty for skipping dinner the next day at home. But I didn't think they'd care enough to come all the way over here, so I really had no idea what to expect when I put my eye to the peephole.

I was utterly shocked to see Edward Masen smiling at me through the warped glass. He was dressed in khakis and a blue and white striped button up shirt rolled up at the sleeves and un-tucked. I registered how broad his shoulders were and how the shirt tugged and pulled attractively across his chest as he moved. He was taller than I remembered. His unruly hair curled over his ears, but he was without a hat tonight. His face was even more handsome now that I could see it clearly. He was far too good-looking. I stood silently, wondering if I could get away with staying still and quiet until he left. But he put an end to the fantasy quickly.

"Bella, I can hear you in there. Plus, you admitted you had no plans for the holiday. I'm here to take you to dinner," he declared. I looked down at my scrub pants, unmatched t-shirt, and bare feet and shook my head. I wasn't going anywhere, but I would have to deal with him to get him to leave. I cracked the door and peaked through.

"Edward, what are you doing here? How'd you get through the gate?" I snapped. He just smiled wider when he saw my face.

"Well, I'm pretty sure you just heard what I said, and you should have been more careful about punching in your code in front of a stranger the other night. I'm taking you to dinner," he answered. I had to press my lips together to keep from smiling when I realized he was wearing flip-flops with his dinner attire. He looked far too adorable for his own good. I opened the door a little wider so he could see how I was dressed.

"Edward, I'm hardly presentable. I've been studying all afternoon. I'm not going out tonight," I punctuated my declaration with a shake of my head. "Where do your parents think you are, anyway? Don't they expect you home on Christmas Eve?" He kept smiling and ran his left hand through his riotous hair.

"I told them I was staying at my house. I promised I'd be back home by 10:00 tomorrow morning for presents and brunch. They didn't ask too many questions; I'm an adult, after all," he added with a sly look.

"Hardly," I scoffed. "What's the deal, anyway? The other night you were all offended that I'd never heard of Edward Masen." He shook his head and fixed me with his piercing green eyes.

"No, I wasn't offended, just interested. And that's the deal," he summarized. "I'm interested. Are you going to make me keep standing out here?" he asked. I gave in and took a step back allowing him to pass by me. He settled on the edge of one of the bar stools just inside the door by the kitchen bar. It separated the kitchen from the living room. He gestured to my attire

"You should get changed so we can go," he insisted. I shook my head.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. You are not an appropriate person for me to date," I said primly. He just smiled wider and shook his head again indulgently.

"And why not? I'm not married, if that's what you're worried about," he countered insultingly. I huffed and threw myself on the couch across the room. I covered my eyes with my left palm. I heard him get up and cross the space toward me. I moved my hand to see him crouched on the floor in front of me. His face was now serious.

"You can't be alone on Christmas Eve, Bella. Give me a chance," he pleaded. He looked so handsome and sincere that I suddenly wanted to go with him. I wanted things that I shouldn't. The chance to have company on a holiday was too strong a temptation.

"OK," I said grudgingly, and he grinned like he'd won the lottery and jumped to his feet. He rubbed his hands together gleefully.

"Get changed," he demanded. "We're going to Kemah for the boat parade, so we need to leave pretty soon." He checked his watch. "Can you do twenty minutes?" I nodded but answered him snarkily.

"You were pretty sure it wouldn't take much to convince me."

"I hoped," he said with a boyish expression that reminded me why this was such a bad idea, but the die had been cast.

"Edward, this is not a date. We can only be friends," I warned. He just smiled like he had a secret.

"I'll take what I can get," he promised. I shook my head and couldn't help but lift the corners of my mouth a little bit.

"I love Kemah Boardwalk," I admitted. His face lit up.

"Then, hurry," he told me simply, and I did.

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The ride to Kemah took about half an hour, and parking was a little tough. Edward drove a very nice silver Volvo that was a few years old. It was remarkably clean considering it belonged to a college boy. The leather seats were soft, and it made sense when he admitted it was a hand-me-down from his mom, another thing we had in common.

Kemah was crowded for the annual Christmas Eve boat parade. I had never been before, but had been telling the truth when I said I loved Kemah. It was a boardwalk/entertainment complex built on Clear Lake just south of Houston. There were several restaurants, shops, and amusement park-type rides. A brand new roller coaster had opened earlier in the year.

The parade was just starting when we made our way down the boardwalk to find an open spot at the railing. Various sailboats, powerboats, and barges were decorated to the nines in Christmas glory. They moved slowly by the spectators in a line. Edward told me they gave a prize to the best boat at the end. I was delighted by the sight and was surprised when I realized I had migrated so close to Edward that I was leaning against his side.

I moved away as soon as I noticed but looked up at Edward to see if he had been aware. He was smiling down at me tenderly, like he was enjoying me enjoying the boats. It made me feel uncomfortable, but I couldn't decide if it was because I didn't want to lead him on or if I missed the warmth of his body close to mine.

"So, I think I need a drink," I announced, really meaning it. Edward looked a bit confused, but agreed.

"We have reservations at Aquarium," he told me and reached out like he was going to grasp my hand but thought better of it. It ended up in his pocket. I turned away from the last few boats and leaned against the railing.

"No, that's too expensive," I objected. Edward just smiled and shook his head like I was the most amusing thing in the world.

"I'm paying, Bella," he answered. I shook my head stubbornly.

"No, this isn't a date. We have to split the check, and I plan to have several drinks." He raised his eyebrows.

"Several, huh? This should be good," he joked. I gave his shoulder a gentle shove.

"I'm serious, Edward. I can't let you pay," I insisted.

"You're my guest, and I'm the one who made you come out tonight. I can afford it," he winked.

"With what? All the money you make from your part-time job?" I asked. "I feel uncomfortable with you using your parents money on me."

"Oh, I didn't realize that a medical student had time for a second job. I suppose you pay the rent on your place, not your surgeon step-father?" Edward turned the tables on me. He was right, unfortunately. I had help supporting myself, but not for long, I promised myself.

"Fine," I grumbled unable to make a coherent argument at this point and really wanting a glass of wine. He smiled triumphantly and motioned for me to follow him down the boardwalk to Aquarium, a lovely seafood restaurant decorated with massive aquariums. It felt like having dinner under the sea. I'd only been there once with my mom a few years ago for lunch, just the two of us, but I remembered it well. I was excited to eat there again.

The hostess did a double take when she saw Edward. She was cute, blonde, and probably a college student, too, about his age. She stared unabashedly at him and fluttered her eyelids. He smiled and charmed her easily, and we were seated before our reservation time even though there were lots of people waiting. She gave me a dismissive glance, obviously deciding I was an older sister or something like that. She watched him walk away but he didn't look back at her at all. Hmm.

He got similar treatment from the young waitress. When I questioned him about it, he looked surprised and insisted that he hadn't noticed the attention at all. I ordered a glass of Chardonnay to go with my gulf snapper. Then, I had a glass of Cabernet to go with my chocolate cake. It's possible I had two glasses of Chardonnay before the Cabernet.

Edward told stories, and they were so funny. I laughed so hard. Then I told funny stories, and he laughed, too. It was the best time I'd had in as long as I could remember. Now, why was I avoiding him when he seemed so interested? Why was it a bad idea to get involved? Through all the confusion, I was having trouble remembering.

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I groaned and rolled toward the blinds, which I'd obviously forgotten to close the night before when I went to bed. My head was pounding, and the small movement caused me to groan again. I froze when I met a barrier in my quest for the window pull. I tentatively cracked open an eye and was met with a sight that sent both a chill through my bones and heat through my blood.

Edward was in my bed. He was lying bare-chested between the window and me with one arm behind his head on my spare pillow. And he was smirking at me knowingly. I quickly took stock and realized I was only wearing my bra and panties, no nightshirt or anything. I closed my eyes and tried desperately to remember anything, but all I could think of was the restaurant. And laughing.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Edward greeted teasingly. I felt his spare hand run through my hair. "And how are you feeling this fine morning?" I kept my eyes closed, willing all of this to just go away, but I knew I was in trouble when I felt his lips close to my ear.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered. I opened my eyes to face him.

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A/N: Sooooo…please leave me a review if you feel moved. I'm hoping to stick to a weekly update schedule.

Thanks for reading! EG


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks so much for the recs at The Lemonade Stand and Fic Dive on ADF. It is an honor to be mentioned with such great fics. I've picked up a lot of new readers. Welcome!

So everyone's pretty annoyed with Bella. I totally understand. I hope you'll all keep reading and give her a chance as her attitudes and opinions evolve. I'm going to try and make it worth you while! FYI, after about Chapter 10ish we will revert to the present day story.

**Chapter 4**

_December 25-26, 2007_

I stared at the half-naked man in my bed with consternation. I tried to formulate a coherent thought to address the situation, but the pounding in my head prevented me.

"Um…" was all I could manage to string together. I wanted to leap away from him and out of bed, but my state of undress and the massive hangover made me think twice. Edward pulled back from my ear and laughed delightedly.

"Relax, nothing happened," he declared. His words caused me to let out a massive sigh of relief, but I wasn't sure how true they were considering our attire.

"Then why," I had to clear my throat before I could go on, "am I wearing this?" I asked. I had the covers pulled up to my chin and tried valiantly not to stare at the glory of his bare chest. He laughed again.

"Sweetheart, that was all you," he proclaimed, and I cringed. "What do you remember?"

"Ah, we were at the restaurant. I had a lot of wine?" I let the last statement trail off into a question. He frowned.

"Oh, I didn't think you went off the deep end until we got back here," he said sounding a bit disappointed. "You seemed to be having a good time when we left Kemah, and you insisted we stop at Albertson's and get some beer, which I thought was odd when we got back here and found you had several beers in your fridge already." He looked at me pointedly and went on.

"We had a couple of beers and watched TV, then you just got up and disappeared into the bedroom. I wasn't sure what you were up to, so I peeked in to see you pulling your shirt over your head. You smiled and looked right at me and unzipped your jeans and pulled those off, too. That's when I knew you weren't in your right mind," he finished.

"So, you stripped down to your boxer briefs and got in bed with me?" I almost yelled and then clutched my aching head. Edward frowned again.

"No, give me some credit. I can be a gentleman; I'd never take advantage of an intoxicated lady," he smirked at me. "Trust me when I say I wasn't unaffected by the sight of you in your underwear, but I'm waiting for you to invite me into your bed sober." I scoffed, letting him know without words that would never happen.

"I asked you if you wanted pajamas, and you just smiled alluringly and refused. I managed to get you to lie down, but you grabbed my hand and asked me not to leave you alone. So, I stayed," he said simply. I wracked my brain trying to remember something. Could that be true? Was my psyche that fragile, that I'd say something that vulnerable to a total stranger? I despised my subconscious in that moment, but not enough to try and really get to know it.

"And your nakedness?" I prompted, and he just chuckled.

"Sweetheart, you'd know if I were naked," he quipped. Then, he pulled back the covers to reveal his black boxer briefs. It took all my effort not to stare at his muscular thighs. I clutched the covers to keep my chest from being exposed by the movement. "I said I was a gentleman, but I'm still a man. I wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to sleep next to a beautiful woman, and I wasn't about to be uncomfortable in my khakis and shirt," he smirked at me and wiggled his eyebrows. I was mortified by his explanation but had no reason to doubt him.

"Plus, I was worried about you," he continued. I thought you might be sick, when I realized how out of it you were. I take it you don't usually drink that much. What about last night made you do that?" he asked cautiously as if he wasn't sure he wanted the answer.

I just shrugged as best I could while still lying down. There was no way I would admit to fighting an inappropriate attraction to him and how much I was truly affected by being pathetic and alone on Christmas. So I kept quiet to keep from incriminating myself.

He stared at me determinedly and sat up sideways to lean on his right arm. This put him much closer to me than before, and it was hard to ignore his mussed, early morning beauty. I ogled a bit too long because he surprised me by leaning over me and catching my cheek with his left hand. I couldn't react when he lowered his face and pressed his lips to mine. With just the right amount of pressure, he parted my lips with his own and sucked my lower lip gently between. I felt the tip of his tongue, pushing, teasing my mouth to open to his.

It was such a spectacular, surprising kiss that at first I forgot to pull away, but finally my addled brain responded, and I pushed at his chest to stop him. He reluctantly pulled away with a triumphant, radiant smile.

"What the hell, Edward?" I demanded, all the while worrying about my morning breath. He had the decency to look slightly ashamed and shifted his lower body away from me. I didn't even want to know the reason for that and was glad the sheet was still in place.

"Well, you asked me to kiss you last night in the living room before you started your strip tease. You seemed lucid, so I happily obliged, but now it seems you've blacked out the entire evening. I didn't want you to have missed out totally on the experience," he explained with a devilish expression, which included a wide smile when I unconsciously touched my fingertips to my lips. He sat up all the way and pulled me with him, holding my hands between his.

"Please, Bella, we would be great together. Give me a chance," he pleaded. It felt odd to be having such a serious conversation in my underwear sitting in bed with a guy I just met a few days ago. "I've got to get going soon," he looked over at the bedside clock. "I'm spending the day with my parents, of course, but I want to see you tomorrow."

"Edward, why are you so fixated on me? I seriously doubt you have to work for female companionship. When I say you're too young for me, I mean it. Aren't there any number of appropriate candidates among the Rice student body?" I asked him point blank.

"Bella, I wasn't kidding when I said that I rarely met people without an agenda, and I've waited for you to show me you're no different, but you've proven the opposite. And, I know you don't remember that kiss last night, but there was passion behind it. I can't even consider not seeing where this goes," he said fiercely. I had no answer for that. He seemed very sincere.

So, I considered it. I would be covered up with work once my rotation started the second week of January, and I knew baseball season started in early February, so we would soon be too busy for each other no matter how we felt. I thought about what Alice had said about me and decided it wouldn't be awful to have some companionship over the next few weeks. Edward would surely grow tired of me soon enough and realize what an old fuddy-duddy I was. My gut told me it was a bad idea, but for some reason, I didn't listen the way I normally did. I just looked up into his handsome face and bright green eyes and said, "Okay."

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I went back to sleep after he left and woke up several hours later feeling much more human. I had changed into my ubiquitous scrub pants and a t-shirt and lounged on the couch watching the Disneyland Christmas parade. I studiously avoided any thoughts of how I had thoroughly humiliated myself the evening before. What was more, it had somehow made Edward even more fascinated by me. More proof of his immaturity, I decided.

My phone rang midafternoon, and I glanced at the screen warily. It was my mother. I sighed and felt obligated to answer.

"Merry Christmas, Mom," I greeted without saying hello.

"Merry Christmas, Bella," she replied, sounding no-nonsense. Ah, not a social call, then. "I just wanted to let you know that Phil got called in for an emergency case. Since, Colin and Brady are with their mom this Christmas, I decided to relieve the CCU charge nurse and head in, too. So, if you changed your mind about dinner, I wanted to let you know it was off. I sent Mrs. Cope home."

"That's OK, Mom, I was still planning on staying at my place," I told her. I could hear the disapproval in her silence, and I expected there was more to her call. I was right.

"Phil's fellow will be with him during the case, but the residents have been given the day off. He said he'd be happy to have you scrub as the second-assist. It'd be good experience for you," she finally revealed her true purpose in calling.

"Mom, you know I don't feel comfortable with the special favors, and I'm really not feeling well today, so I think I'll pass," I told her. I didn't have the heart to add that I had absolutely no interest in heart surgery and start the same old argument over again. I was feeling a bit fragile today for a variety of reasons. "I'm sure any of the interns or residents would be happy to come in on their day off to help out Dr. Dwyer." Which she knew damn well was the truth.

"Fine, Bella, have it your way. I hope you feel better soon," she rang off quickly as soon as I refused to go along with her plans. I wondered if they'd even bothered to get me a Christmas present this year. I'd purchased a couples' massage for the two of them and had the card mailed a few weeks ago, so I, at least, was covered. I deliberately avoided thoughts of past Christmases with my real dad who probably stayed up all night building Barbie dream houses for me.

The call left me feeling lonely and depressed. I couldn't help it that my thoughts turned to Edward. I thought about how handsome he'd looked bare-chested with ruffled hair this morning. The humorous glint in his emerald eyes made my breathing speed up a little. A fling might not be a bad thing for me, I thought again. I just couldn't get too attached and let it interfere with my work. Long-term goals were the most important thing.

Speak of the devil, or in this case think of him, and he shall appear. My phone rang again, and this time it was Edward. He'd forced my cell number out of me before he left this morning.

"Hey, Bella," his voice was low almost a whisper and ridiculously sexy. If he really made it to the Majors one day, he would have unlimited tail. The sudden thought was unwelcome, and I squelched it. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah," my voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. "I went back to sleep after you left. I've just been lying around all day. Thanks for asking. How about you, having a good Christmas?"

"It's been a great day," I could hear the smile in his voice. "My parents are very generous. We just finished up with presents. After brunch, my dad and I played catch in Hermann Park. It's kind of a tradition." He sounded shy sharing these intimate details, a side of him I hadn't seen. He seemed determined to really get to know me, but in that moment, I could only envy his family life.

"Oh, that's sweet," I commented. "If you get drafted, you'll probably have to change venue," I joked. He laughed.

"I've thought of that," he said ruefully. "I also thought you might change your mind and go over to your parents. I took a walk down Willowick just in case, but I didn't know what kind of car you drive." The vulnerability of his statement shocked me into silence for a minute. The truth was, I'd never had I guy I was seeing say such honest, open things. I guess I took too long to answer, because he spoke again.

"Was that the wrong thing to say? Did I scare you?" he asked with trepidation. I chuckled humorlessly.

"No, not at all. It's just that my mom and step-dad are both working so dinner was canceled. They tried to con me into assisting him on an emergency surgery instead. Not my kind of togetherness, though," I finished sarcastically.

"I would invite you over for dessert, but I know you'll say no," he declared unexpectedly. I welcomed the distraction.

"Dessert with your parents? Are you insane? I've know you for less than a week, and we've never even gone on a date," I almost shouted. He laughed, a deep throaty sound, also sexy. I bet he'd be great at phone sex. I slapped my forehead. I did not just think that, I berated myself. His response flustered me even more.

"I did sleep in your bed last night," he teased.

"Oh my God, Edward, you didn't tell your parents about that, did you?" I demanded. He laughed even more but assured me that he hadn't breathed a word of it.

"But, I'm going to work on you. They're having a big New Year's Eve party, and I'm planning on bringing you as my date," he told me.

"No, no way! I've only barely agreed to see you, and we will be taking this slow," I insisted.

"I guess we'll see, Bella," he said noncommittally and then changed the subject. "What do you want to do tomorrow?"

"I don't know," I replied. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, we could go to the Menil Collection and then have dinner," he suggested.

"Wow!" I exclaimed. "You are quite the date planner. Kemah Boardwalk and now the Menil Collection? Are you working your way through your usual panty-dropping hot spots?" I asked sarcastically. He was silent for a minute, and when he answered he sounded hurt.

"I'll have you know that I've had maybe five dates in the last two and half years, and they all consisted of just dinner. I told you, I don't usually make an effort," he said haughtily. I laughed.

"No, you said you didn't usually have to make an effort, which means that despite your lack of dates, you've had plenty of girls hop in your bed with no pre-party meals," I countered. He didn't reply, so I knew I was right, but I felt no triumph in the knowledge. In fact, I felt like my hangover was coming back. I didn't like to think of him with girls like the ones clustered around the keg the other night.

"Anyway, Bella, the point is that I like you, and I want to make an effort for you to have a good time. Do you want to go to the Menil Collection or not?" He sounded a bit testy now.

"Actually, I was an art history major, and I love the Menil Collection. I haven't been since I graduated. It sounds perfect," I grudgingly admitted. The Menil Collection was an award winning and very eclectic private art collection. "I especially like the Byzantine Fresco Chapel."

"No kidding," Edward asked with a hint of wonder in his voice. "Well, that's something."

"What?" I asked.

"I'm a music major," he replied. "I'm surprised you did art history. I was sure it was chemistry or biology, or something like that."

"Well, I wanted to be somewhat well-rounded. I had to take all the science pre-requisites and do well, but it's actually not a bad thing when you're applying to medial school to have an non-science major," I told him. "And I'm very surprised to hear that you're a music major."

"Well, it doesn't matter what my major is, right? Since I won't be graduating, I mean," he said evenly.

"Yeah, that's what you said, but it's really hard to get accepted to the Shepherd School of Music at Rice," I argued. And it was true. It was extremely prestigious. Hearing that changed my opinion of him quite a bit, I was ashamed to admit.

"Maybe," he said vaguely with uncharacteristic modesty. "I do piano performance, so it's kind of similar to pitching. Hand-eye coordination and all." I laughed.

"Edward, that's bullshit. It sounds like you're just a talented guy. I'm impressed," I told him sincerely.

"Well, I'm glad I'm making progress," he said simply. "I'll pick you up at 3 tomorrow."

And for once, I had no objections to that.

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Edward was a few minutes early the next afternoon, but I was ready. I'm a chronically early person, something I can't control in my effort to control everything around me. It helped with being a medical student, though. I was wearing a flared khaki skirt and a long-sleeved embellished orange t-shirt with brown sandals. He was back to a t-shirt and jeans with the Rice cap. And, of course he was wearing flip-flops. I observed all this through the peephole and spoke as soon as I opened the door

"Am I over dressed? I didn't know where we were going for dinner," I asked anxiously. Edward leaned in without answering and gently kissed my cheek. The gesture stunned me silent.

"Good to see you again, too," he said with a smile. My cheek was tingling, and I fought the urge to raise my fingers to it. "You look beautiful. I thought we'd go to Mai's for dinner. You see all-comers there, you know," he reassured me. "And we can split the check if you want." This last was added slyly. Mai's was a fantastic Vietnamese hole in the wall, beloved by Rice students. You could have a feast for less than eight bucks. I hadn't been there in a while, since it was in a bad area, and not the sort of spot to go alone. It made my mouth water just thinking about the peanut sauce.

"I can tell by your face, I've done well," he declared, and I realized I must have had a ridiculous expression. "Let's go." I grabbed my purse and followed him down the stairs to the parking lot. I spotted his Volvo parked next to the pool fence. He pressed the key fob but paused after we had the doors open.

"Which one is yours? I need to know, so I can properly stalk you," he said with a straight face. I gestured toward my BMW, which was parked in my assigned spot near the bottom of the stairs.

"Did that used to belong to your parents?" he asked, staring at it. I nodded.

"Yep, it was my mom's before she got the newer model," I admitted. He turned to smile at me across the roof of his car.

"Another thing we have in common," he quipped, tapping the roof a few times before climbing in.

"I already noticed that," I murmured before climbing in, too. He didn't hear me.

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Edward was perfect company at the Menil Collection. The collection was housed in several former residential buildings off of Montrose Avenue not too far from Rice. It was an extremely unique way of viewing the art. He was silent and allowed me to peruse the collection as slow as I liked. He didn't seem bored, either. He paused in front of several pieces with a thoughtful look on his face. He removed his hat and ran his fingers through his crazy hair before we ducked into the Byzantine Fresco Chapel. He stood in the back, taking it all in. When we left, he didn't try and make me talk about the experience, something I hated. I just wanted to sit in my bubble and think for a while.

My phone rang while we were driving to Mai's from the museum. It was Alice; she must be back from Mississippi. I wondered if she was planning to apologize or yell at me some more. I figured she hadn't gone out yet with Jasper or else it was canceled. I was still kind of mad at her, so I didn't want to talk to her now. I was big enough to admit that it might have something to do with the fact I was out with Edward on a date, and couldn't tolerate hearing an "I told you so." So, I let it go to voicemail.

Edward looked at me questioningly when I glanced at the screen and silenced it.

"You can answer, if you need to," he said. I smirked at him.

"Yes, I know I can do anything I want," I snarked. He smiled reproachfully at me, and I grimaced.

"It's Alice. I can talk to her later," I told him. He nodded but seemed to look at me carefully. I supposed he remembered that Alice was Cindy's sister.

It turned out we had the exact same favorite order at Mai's, chicken and egg roll vermicelli with summer rolls on the side. Honestly, he was proving to be better company than most people I'd met, Alice included. Time had flown by this afternoon, and I'd enjoyed myself immensely. I agreed to a Vietnamese coffee after dinner, even though I knew I'd be up to the wee hours given the heavy dose of caffeine.

I made a major decision when we arrived back in my parking lot. Edward had just pulled into a spot and turned to face me. His mouth was slightly open, and I knew he was about to speak, so I interrupted him.

"Why don't you come up for a while?" I asked. "It's only 9:00. I checked yesterday, and I still have a few beers in the fridge despite my indiscretion on Sunday night," I tried to joke in order to cover my nervousness. Edward closed his mouth and stared at me with those penetrating green eyes. His expression gave nothing away. Finally, after I'd started to get very uncomfortable, he answered.

"I'd like that," is all he said, and we both got out of the car.

Once inside, I turned on the TV to some college basketball game. It was a holiday tournament of some sort, and I felt bad for the players who had to be away from home on Christmas. It occurred to me that this would become a regular issue for Edward in the future if things went according to plan, and the thought made me sad. It seemed wrong for someone who enjoyed time with his family to be kept away.

We sat on the couch facing each other, sipping Shiner, half watching the game and half chatting. Edward had abandoned his flip-flops halfway through the room, and they lay abandoned on the carpet. One beer turned into a second. Finally, Edward set his beer down on the coffee table and scooted closer to me. He fingered the hair by my left ear with his right hand, seemingly engrossed in its texture.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice almost a whisper. His eyes flicked to my lips.

"You're mesmerizing. You make me feel too much. What am I going to do, Bella?" he asked in a hoarse voice. And, I couldn't resist him anymore. I knew cheesy lines, and this wasn't one. I leaned in, and he met me halfway.

Our lips touched, singeing us both. Both of his hands moved to my hair, and he pulled me closer to him, almost onto his lap. He was still sideways on the couch, and I grasped his shoulders, wanting to be closer still. He was a smoldering kisser, and I lost myself in the sensations for moments, maybe hours. I expected him to move us, to lay me down, or want to move to the bedroom, but he seemed content to make out like teenagers where we were. And that thought is what brought me to my senses. He wasn't much more than a teenager, but I was. I pulled back slightly.

"Edward, let's move into the bedroom," I said huskily, but it had the opposite effect from what I'd imagined. He pulled away.

"That's my cue to leave," he said softly. I jumped back as if I'd been slapped.

"What do you mean?" I demanded, chest heaving and face blushing. He smiled and touched my blushing cheek fondly.

"Bella, I've had plenty of one night stands, as you divined during our talk yesterday. But this is different, and I want it to matter. I won't fuck you in your bed after a couple of beers in your living room. You're better than that." His words stung because it sounded like he was making me out to be some kind of loose woman.

"I'm not a slut," I said harshly, "I don't do that." He nodded in understanding.

"I know. That's why it has to matter," he explained. My heart melted, but he was so wrong about what was happening between us, so young and naïve.

"Edward, this isn't a great love story. I think you're being a little naïve," I told him. He stared at me in frustration and maybe a little anger.

"Did you have a good time today? At Kemah?" he demanded, and I had to nod. I wouldn't lie to him. "Well, you said that you would give us a chance. Are you going back on your word?" he demanded. He looked so fierce and sincere and handsome. And I did love spending time with him. My heart ached with the thought of never seeing him again. So, I shook my head. His face changed and relaxed.

"Bella, I'm going to change your mind if it takes me years," he promised. He kissed me again, hotly and tenderly, running his fingers over my scalp. My lips tingled when he pulled away.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he promised when he stood and left. He kissed me chastely at the door, and I turned and leaned against the door with my back when he left, like the lovesick college student that I wasn't.

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A/N: The Menil Collection was one of my favorite spots in Houston when I lived there. And I was also an art history major. The Byzantine Fresco Chapel is now quite different. The frescoes were sent back to Cyprus in 2011 or 2012 (unsure) as a part of art repatriation. I will not comment on my thoughts about art repatriation since it is a rather fraught subject and has nothing to do with what's happening here. Sadly, I remember nothing I learned in college about art. It's been a long time, and I guess all that space has been filled up with military and medical information.

Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews. I'm trying to keep up with the replies. Just remember that if you review as a guest, I can't respond to you.

See you next week! EG


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Wow, I've picked up so many new followers. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this little tale. I'm beyond flattered.

A few people have mentioned being concerned about Bella's relationship with her parents, that she might seem a little ungrateful. She has been provided for materially, but has received very little affection since her real father died. She was tightly controlled, and maybe even a little bit brainwashed in going into medicine at all. There are little tidbits here and there of this in the coming chapters, but I thought I'd give a little clarification.

**Chapter 5**

_December 27, 2007_

I really didn't sleep. I obsessed over how much I wanted Edward in my bed again. If this was his plan to make me want him, it was working. Around 2 am, I got up and sat in front of my desktop. I googled "female sexual peak" and found that I would need to be a few years older than I was now to be Edward's sexual match.

Then, I was exasperated with myself for doing something so idiotic and got back in bed. Sleep remained elusive but I finally settled into it around sunrise, as all insomniacs know will happen. Edward woke me with his call at 9 am. He greeted me cheerfully, but I grumbled back at him.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked sounding horrified.

"I thought you were a college student. Don't you sleep 'til noon on vacations?" I asked crossly. He laughed nervously.

"No, I'm a college athlete, and I get up early to run or practice piano," he answered defensively. I was pleased with his answer but didn't let him know it.

"Sorry, I just didn't sleep well last night," I replied.

"Missed me?" he asked, sounding smug. I made a noncommittal humming sound so as not to inflate his ego. "Anyway," he went on, " I thought you might want to go for a walk with me this morning. My parents have roped me into a dinner party, so I'll have to spend time with them later." He paused, sounding apologetic about that. "I know how much you enjoy walking." He was referring, of course, to our walk the night we met, but I couldn't help but think of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy when he phrased it that way.

"You are correct," I answered. "I am a great walker, and I'd love to go for a walk with you. Where?" I ignored the bit about the dinner party. I wanted to ask for details, but I wasn't his girlfriend and didn't aspire to that role. I had no right to ask.

"We could do the path around Rice, and then grab some lunch in The Village," he suggested.

"Wow, always with a plan, Masen," I chuckled. "You're going to ruin it for all the other college guys," I teased.

"Well, as far as you're concerned, I hope that's true," was his only reply, and it shut me up. I agreed to be ready in half an hour. There was a 5K manicured, dirt path that ran the perimeter of Rice's campus. It was mostly sandwiched between a low brick wall and the street. The big bonus was that it was shaded entirely, no matter the time of day, by the giant live oaks that grew prolifically around the University.

I wore track pants and a fitted Astros t-shirt with my running shoes. It was a little cooler that morning, but Edward still turned up in black mesh shorts, and a Bellaire High School t-shirt. I jogged on occasion but not regularly, so his appearance made me nervous.

"Did you want to run?" I asked after I greeted him, and he kissed my cheek like he'd done the day before. "I can try, but I doubt I'll keep up with you." He shrugged.

"I wanted to spend the time talking anyway, and I think running would interfere," he smiled sweetly, and my heart clenched, knowing he'd be jaded by the time he was my age. I just acquiesced, and we left. He parked in the lot just east of the stadium and led the way to the gate next to the Campus Police Station on University Boulevard. We started walking east toward the Medical Center and Reckling Park, the baseball stadium, of course. It was a little chilly, and I walked fast to warm myself up, but he kept up easily with his long legs. I glanced at the outfield barrier, which blocked our view into the state-of-the-art baseball stadium as we passed.

"Your home away from home," I said nodding in the direction. He smiled and agreed readily with me.

"We start big time practice on January 7. The first game of the season is February 15," he told me. This was what I had expected, and it was good news. It meant he'd be too busy to worry about me soon. That news didn't reassure me the way I wanted it to do.

"You like it," I observed. "It makes you happy." He agreed wholeheartedly.

"I like music, that makes me happy. But pitching is something different. It's mental, and I have the smarts and the power to overcome the batter. I can't believe they might pay me to do this everyday. I can't believe I get a free Rice education for doing what I love," he explained impassionedly. I didn't know what to say. He shook his head, seemingly unaware that I was next to him, wrapped up in his little world.

"I need to work on batting," he declared. His statement confused me.

"Why? Don't you have the designated hitter?" I asked. He rolled his eyes at me with the least amount of tolerance I'd seen from him.

"Yes, in college," he said huffily as if I were missing a major point. And I guess I was. "But, I want to play for the Astros, and the National League doesn't have the designated hitter. I thought you were a student of the game," he accused. I bowed my head in acknowledgement.

"You're right, I wasn't thinking of the future. I am a student of the game, and I don't approve of the designated hitter for what it's worth. Like I said the other night," I told him.

"Oh yeah?" he asked with interest. We'd made it pretty far, long past Reckling Park and the track stadium. We turned onto Main Street. I fixed my eyes on the ground because I knew this story would be hard to tell.

"Yeah," I agreed. "My dad used to bring me up for Astros games at least once a year. We'd drive all the way up from Brownsville and stay in a hotel. It was actually a crappy, rundown motor lodge near the Astrodome, but it was big stuff to me back then, all we could afford," I tried to sound cheerful. Edward was silent, which I appreciated. I continued on.

"When, I was eleven, my dad's supervisor's son was finally old enough to go to a game, so he offered to fly the four of us up to watch one all together. Only he was a Rangers fan," I paused to look at Edward guiltily. "No offense to Nolan Ryan, or anything," I said reverently. This caused him to laugh heartily, just like I'd hoped it would. I didn't want things to stay awkward.

"So, the four of us flew up to Dallas. My dad's boss's son was only six, so I kind of ended up looking after him, but I didn't mind. We were in the middle of the game, when I turned to my dad and asked why the teams were cheating. He and his boss were confused, they didn't know what I meant, so I tried to explain." Edward was watching me raptly, waiting for the punch line.

"Finally, I blurted it out. Why didn't the pitcher have to bat?" I exclaimed. Edward's chuckling turned into an all out guffaw. "My dad was hysterically laughing, but his boss was less than impressed. So, in case you're wondering, I have a pretty established opinion on the designated hitter," I finished the tale. I frowned and had to add, "My dad was killed that winter, and that was the last Major League game I've attended." The silence stretched out as we continued to walk side by side not looking at each other.

"That's great, Bella," he finally said. "I'm glad you have that memory." His sincerity and understanding made my eyes tear up. I blinked them rapidly away and tried to think of a way to change the subject. We had just passed Sid Richardson and Lovett Colleges, so I grasped at straws.

"Which is your college?" I blurted out. He looked surprised but seemed to understand I was trying to distract myself.

"Martel," he answered. I let my mouth hang open in surprise.

"That's not a real college!" I exclaimed. He tilted his head and opened his mouth indignantly.

"I beg to differ. It most certainly is a real college and has been since 2003, before you graduated, I might add," he threw at me. Rice followed the residential college system like many Ivy League schools and had been fixed at eight colleges for more than 30 years before they added Martel College in 2003. The colleges had various rivalries, and the argument against Martel, once it was established, had been that it "wasn't a real college" since it was so new. Of course, Edward wouldn't see it that way since it was there before he even showed up, which was after I graduated, as I was painfully aware.

"Whatever," I capitulated and waved my hand in front of me to show it was a silly subject. But Edward wasn't ready to let that subject die.

"What about you? Which college did you call home?" he asked. We were walking along Main, and many of the Medical Center buildings were off to our right. I felt a deep longing for my time at Rice and answered him honestly.

"Brown, shit we're bad," I stated lowly. He let out a disbelieving laugh.

"Did you just say, 'Brown, shit we're bad?'" he cackled. I let out a belly laugh, too, and just nodded.

"Oh my God, that was priceless!" he declared. "So, Brown College is your alma mater, and you still know the cheer," he shook his head in delight. Every college at Rice had a special cheer, established for all the inter-college events that went on throughout the year. I was still laughing, out loud, more than I had in months, maybe years. We passed said college just then, turning onto Sunset Avenue.

"Do you want to go in and look around?" he asked, tilting his head toward the building. I shook my head vehemently.

"No reason for that. Let's just keep walking," I insisted, feeling uncomfortable. He persisted.

"But, the seniors there were freshmen when you graduated. You might see someone you know. I bet they'd love that. You're probably a celebrity now that you're in med school," he suggested. I snapped back in reply, wanting to avoid just that.

"No, Edward. I'm hungry so let's just go." He nodded and stayed silent, obliging my request but gazing at me appraisingly. We continued past Brown College onto Sunset, turned onto Rice Boulevard, and finally reached the intersection of Rice Boulevard and Greenbriar Avenue.

"You're the hungry one, so why don't you pick where we go?" he asked as we crossed the street away from the manicured path toward Rice Village, a collection of shops and restaurants that spanned several blocks just west of Rice Stadium and the campus.

"Mission Burrito?" I suggested hopefully. "I'd like to pay for both of us." He looked at me sideways, and I could see his eyes crinkle with his grin, despite shade from his cap.

"All right, fair enough." He agreed. We entered the storefront on Morningside Drive and chose an outdoor table once we'd received our custom-made burritos, roasted vegetables for me, and carnitas for him. We sat in the sun since it was still a little cool, despite the warming that had occurred during our walk. We chatted superficially, and I was having a great time. My mood took a dip on the walk back toward the car in the stadium lot.

"So, I don't have to be at the dinner party until later. We could hang out at my house for awhile before I take you home," he suggested. I froze but forced myself to resume walking and act casual. I didn't look at him when I answered.

"Are any of your roommates back from break? I'd hate to intrude," I said vaguely. Edward kept walking but turned his face toward me.

"Yeah, two of them might be around, but they're cool. They won't bother us. We can watch TV or sit in the backyard," he persisted. I thought about Cindy and her friends and the adjoining backyard. I really felt uneasy about hanging out with a bunch of college kids. Some of them could be underage, and I was sure there would be beer in the house. I tried to put him off gently.

"I don't think that's a great idea. Why don't we just go back to my apartment? I can get some studying done, and you can have some free time before you have to get ready for your party later," I declined. Edward shrugged, but I could see his eyes were narrowed, and he was studying me appraisingly.

"Okay, but you can't avoid meeting my roommates, forever," he said it lightly, but I could see that I might have hurt his feelings. But I wanted the subject dropped so I didn't try to apologize or say anything else about it.

"Sorry, I can't invite you to the dinner party," Edward said when we were back in the car. He was looking straight ahead at the road.

"Oh, that's okay," I responded with a little surprise. "I didn't expect you to do that. I don't have a leash on you." He grinned mischievously.

"I wouldn't mind if you put a leash on me," he said with heavy innuendo, and I groaned and rolled my eyes.

"No, seriously," he went on, "it's a group of my parent's friends and some of their kids. I've known them almost my entire life but hardly see them anymore. We're all busy, so the holiday break seemed like a good time to get together. I'd probably have more fun if you were there, but my parents aren't the hosts." He looked away from the road to gauge my reaction.

"I think I'll survive without you for one evening," I teased. He put his right hand over his heart to show me that I'd wounded him. He followed me up to the apartment once we'd parked. I waved him in before me, when I'd unlocked and opened the door. I turned back toward him after twisting the deadbolt and was surprised at how close to me he was.

Edward leaned in and gently but firmly pushed me back against my front door by the shoulders. He bent slightly at the knees so we were face to face. His eyes burned into me, and he pressed his lips insistently to mine and quickly used his tongue to force open my mouth. He devoured me hungrily and ferociously, and I let out a moan at his unexpected attack.

Just as sudden as the kiss began, he pulled back. I was left breathless and panting, staring at him with wide eyes unsure what to say. His hat had tumbled to the floor, and his hair was sticking up everywhere. His face was split in a wide, proud grin.

"Just wanted to remind you what you'd be missing tonight, since you said you were going to survive so easily," he quipped as he retrieved the hat. I rubbed my fingertips over my swollen lips and let out a shaky laugh.

"Wow, you're good, Edward Masen, I'll give you that," I told him. I stepped away from the door to let him out. He pecked my cheek as he passed.

"I'm going to see you every day until the break is over," he declared. "I'm going to make it impossible for you to survive without me." I was beginning to think he was right.

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The rest of my day was unremarkable. I'd returned from studying by the pool to heat up a frozen entrée for dinner when my cell phone rang. It was Alice, and I decided I was ready to talk to her.

"Hello," I said, waiting to see what she'd say, gauging her mood.

"Hey, Bella," she said warily. "I hope you had a good Christmas. Did you end up staying by yourself? I tried to get you yesterday when I got back." I ignored the question for now and answered vaguely.

"Hey, Alice. Yeah, it was fine. My mom and Phil both worked, and I haven't received any word of a gift yet from them. I sent them a gift certificate for a couple's massage at The Houstonian. Jerks. I hope yours was better." I complained.

"Oh, that sucks," she sympathized. "Yes, we had a decent time, too much food," she glossed over her holiday details and paused. "Listen, I wanted to apologize for being so bitchy with you on the phone the other day. You know I just worry about you." I was so relieved that she apologized, and I was sorry for doubting her so I decided to spill. She was my best friend after all.

"So, I'm trying to take your advice," I began. She was quiet, waiting for me to go on, but I didn't know what to say.

"What does that mean?" she asked suspiciously.

"Well," I paused again, and I heard her huff a little over the line at my hesitation. "I went out with Edward Masen on Christmas Eve and again last night," I admitted in a rush. I left out the drunken debacle for now. I held the phone away from my ear as she shrieked in triumph on her end.

"Oh, I knew it! He's so hot, Bella. Are you going to see him again? Is he a good kisser?" I laughed at her enthusiasm.

"Yeah, we went for a walk this morning, and I'll probably see him tomorrow. We're taking things slow, Alice. I don't think it will work long term. He's too young for me, and the baseball thing just isn't compatible, you know, with medical school," I cautioned.

"Bella, you can't plan everything. I keep telling you that. Just have fun. And don't think I didn't notice that you deflected on the kissing thing," she scolded. I didn't argue with her. There was no point, so I changed the subject.

"So what about Jasper," I asked her. "Edward knows him through his brother. I guess they went to the same high school. He said Jasper is into you."

"What?!" she shrieked again. "What did he say exactly?" I shook my head at her predictable response.

"That's it, exactly. We weren't gossiping," I said primly. She made a rude sound.

"Fine, be that way," she told me but then got serious. "I think it's the real deal, Bella. I know it's quick but sometimes you just know." Her voice was softer than I'd ever heard it, and it sent a chill through me.

"We'll have to double date!" Her bubbly demeanor was back, and I let her chatter on for a while before disconnecting the call with a promise to get together in the next couple of days. She had to go back to work on the 2nd. I put her off on my New Year's plans. I felt butterflies whenever the subject came up, so I preferred to ignore it.

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I got in bed with my book after dinner and must have fallen asleep because, I startled awake with a pounding on my apartment door. The book had fallen on the floor, and the bedside light was still on. I checked the clock: 10:30 pm. I climbed out of bed and approached the peephole with trepidation.

Edward stood on my doorstep with his head down. I saw the top of his head, first with no hat. His hair was actually tamed and looked liked maybe he'd applied product. He was dressed very nicely in a button down shirt, tucked into khakis, with a tie. Shiny brown dress shoes were on his feet. That's when I knew something was wrong. I'd never seen him in shoes other than athletic ones before. Then, he raised his face to focus on the door and knock again. It was obvious he was upset.

I pulled open the door before he could knock again, and he rushed in without an invitation. He clutched me to his chest and buried his face in my hair before I could even get a word out. I tried to push him back so I could ask what has happening, but he started placing feather light kisses all over my face, on my eyelids, my cheeks, and my forehead. Finally, I wrenched myself free, kind of, since he still had a grip on my upper arms.

"Edward, what in the world?" I demanded. "Are you drunk? Did you drive here drunk?" My voice got high and squeaky. He took a deep breath and ran his hands over his hair. Whatever he'd done to tame it, it was ruined. He stepped back and pivoted to push the door closed behind him and turn the deadbolt before he answered me. He sighed again and looked me in the eye.

"No, of course, I'm not drunk," he replied indignantly. "I'm sorry. I just had to see you. The party didn't…go well," he mumbled the last part.

"What do you mean?" I demanded. He looked lost.

"Can we please sit?" he asked, motioning toward the couch. I acquiesced, and we sat down facing each other slightly. He grabbed my hand and started playing with my fingers, not meeting my eye. "It was a set up," he finally stated. I raised my eyebrows, so he continued.

"My mom is sick of all the girls," he said carefully. His words made my stomach drop. I tried not to get upset. I already knew he'd slept around. "She wants me to be more adult, since I'll probably be a professional athlete by the end of the new year. She's worried I don't take it seriously," he admitted. He looked up at me, and he looked so young and fragile. My warning bells started going off again.

"But you do, right?" I asked shrilly. He shook his head and nodded at the same time, if such a thing is possible.

"Things have changed a lot in the last week, Bella," he told me. It chilled my bones; I was cut out to be no one's savior. I started vigorously shaking my head and pulled my hands back.

"No, Edward, don't put this on me. You're projecting your own need to grow up on me. That's why you picked an older girl. You don't care for me, but the idea of me!" I was getting very upset. He grabbed my hands again and shook them, forcing me to meet his penetrating gaze.

"Bella, you're wrong, but that's beside the point. I have time to convince you. Listen to the rest of the story, please," he requested. "My mom got the hosts to invite a couple to the party, who we haven't seen in over ten years. They moved to Dallas way back then. They have a daughter my age named Kate who is a student at University of St. Thomas, an education major. She orchestrated the entire thing to try and fix me up with Kate." My heart dropped. If he was trying to tell me he wanted to date other people, this was a strange way to go about it.

"So, are you going to go out with her?" I asked. He made a face at me that was decidedly not mature.

"Are you even listening to a word I say?" he berated me. "Of course, I'm not going out with her. I only want you. The whole thing made me need to see you immediately. That's why I'm here." I eyed him skeptically.

"What did your mom say?" I asked. He smiled.

"She was fine. I just told her I was taking care of things myself, that I would be bringing my new girlfriend to the New Year's Eve party. Bella, I was wrong. There's no point in trying to take this slow." He smoldered at me.

"Edward, I'm afraid your feelings for me are unhealthy," I tried to reason with him. He rolled his eyes.

"That's your psychiatry rotation talking," he dismissed. Then, he grinned devilishly. "I'll show you unhealthy." And with that he scooped me onto his lap so I straddled him and kissed me deeply. He tangled his hands in my hair and forced my head back so he had easier access to my mouth. His tongue delved deeply and tangled with my own. It was so hot that it only took me a moment to get caught up in the frenzy.

I let out a moan when he moved his warm lips to my neck and lower to my collarbone. His hands traveled underneath my t-shirt and slid up my rib cage. I hazily registered that I should stop him, since I wasn't wearing a bra, but all thoughts of that went out the window when he grazed my bare nipples with the back of his fingers. It was his turn to groan when he felt them pebble under his touch.

He grabbed the edge of my t-shirt and unceremoniously pulled it over my head so I was sitting on him topless with only the scrub pants I constantly wore clothing me. He lunged toward my breasts and traced the left nipple with his hot tongue. I threw my head back and moaned again, and the sound seemed to rouse him. He pulled back but before I could complain, he lifted me off his lap and carried me into the bedroom.

He tossed me on the bed and ripped the tie from around his neck at the same time, he toed off his dress shoes. My chest was falling and rising rapidly as I watched him from heavily lidded eyes. Somewhere in my brain, reason was screaming at me to stop this before it got out of hand, but I couldn't listen. I scooted back to the top of the bed and leaned back on my elbows. He swung himself over me to hover there and kissed me again deeply. I moved my fingers to the buttons of his shirt and made quick work of it. It was tossed to the floor. I clutched greedily at the material of his undershirt, and he pulled that off too.

Now the bare skin of our chests were touching, rubbing against each other. The friction made me crazy with lust, and our tongues battled frantically. He held me against the bed by my shoulders, pinning me down. I could feel his hardness against my hip through his pants, and I raised my pelvis slightly to rub against it. He let out a hiss and thrust back against me.

The movement gave me access to his belt, so I moved my fingers quickly to the buckle, buttons, and zipper. He thrust against me again, and I was able to get my hand inside his boxer briefs. I gripped his smooth erection in my hand, squeezing lightly, impressed by his size. He moaned into my neck for a moment then pulled back slightly. I whimpered in protest.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere, Baby," he whispered, his hand going toward the drawstring tie at my waist. "Just like Christmas all over again," he said as he pulled the bow apart. Then, he grabbed the waistband and pulled the pants and my panties down my legs together until I was lying completely bare underneath him.

"Beautiful," he breathed and then dipped two fingers between my legs. He hummed in appreciation when he made contact with my wetness, proof that he wasn't the only one filled with desire here. I made a small noise of protest.

"What?" he asked, his eyes hooded. "Want more of that?" He added a third finger, and my eyes rolled back in my head.

"No. I…just…want…your…pants… off, too," I managed to pant out. He grinned triumphantly and sat back on enough to shove his khakis and boxer brief over his hips, and those joined the growing pile on the floor. Somehow the socks disappeared, too, but I was too overheated to know exactly how. His straining erection slapped against his eight-pack abs as he knelt over me, and I followed the V between his hips with my eyes hungrily to stare at that thing of beauty. I was dying to run my hands over it, but I couldn't reach him.

He renewed his attentions with deft fingers and soon had me shivering and groaning with my climax. He leaned forward to kiss me as I came down, and I eagerly grabbed his erection and pumped it experimentally. He closed his eyes in pleasure and groaned.

"Edward," I pleaded, the need in my voice plain. He knew what I wanted.

"I've got a condom in my wallet," he panted against my lips. I responded by kissing him again. He finally pulled away and retrieved his pants. I supposed the speed with which he opened the package and sheathed himself spoke volumes about his athletic prowess, but I wasn't thinking of that at the time. He hovered over me, and for a split second, the uncertainty in his eyes returned. I rubbed my fingers over his brow, smoothing the worry lines on his face.

"Please," I said simply and that was enough for him. He thrust his hips forward and filled me in one movement. Pleasure shot through me in a way it hadn't ever before. I made some sort of unintelligible sound, and he established a rhythm, thrusting up and hitting the exact right spot over and over again. It wasn't long until my second orgasm was building. I was shouting his name along with curses and blessings.

He was quiet and determined until I finally felt him go rigid then explode with a loud "Bella" called into my shoulder as he bit down on the flesh there. Then, he collapsed on top of me. We lay tangled together trying to catch our breath. He rolled to his side and tenderly stroked my hair and kissed my cheek.

"Sleep," he whispered as he got up to clean himself. I started to drift off but didn't completely relax until he was back in bed with me, tucked behind me, his soft breath, tickling my neck.

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A/N: Yes, yes, I know that the Astros are now American League, and as such have the designated hitter. But they were firmly National League in 2007-8, the period we're discussing. More on that in later chapters.

And the Mission Burrito in Rice Village is no longer there, but it was in 2007. I highly recommend a trip to any of their other locations.

Really hope you enjoyed my latest installment ! See you next week. Please drop me a review if you see so fit.

EG


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: If you liked how last chapter ended, then you'll like this one, too. But don't get too used to the harmony…

**Chapter 6**

_December 28-29, 2007_

The sun was streaming through the open blinds when I woke up for the third time. We'd forgotten to close them, which was understandable under the circumstances. I stretched feeling pleasantly sore. Edward was on his stomach, his head turned away from me, still fast asleep. I gazed at his broad, muscular back and thought about how those muscles had felt moving beneath my palms. The sheet gave me just a peek at his glorious glutes.

The first time I'd woken up, it had been with Edward's fingers grazing my breasts and his tongue tracing my jaw. Things had quickly escalated after that, and we'd fallen asleep again once we were sated. The second time I'd woken up, Edward was spooning me, and he placed soft kisses on my neck and shoulder as he slid into me from behind. We'd rocked unhurriedly in that position until we both fell apart again. That had been the most intimate moment I'd shared in longer than I'd cared to admit. I hadn't let it bother me at the time; I was too overwhelmed with pleasure. But now those seeds of doubt were creeping back over me as I watched Edward sleep peacefully beside me.

His arm twitched, and he slowly rolled back towards me. His face broke into a sleepy smile when he saw I was awake, too. I was treated to an uninterrupted view of his spectacular chest, shoulders, abdomen, and the V of his pelvis that hinted at the promised land. His hair was in glorious disarray, and he reached for me gathering me into his chest, our noses almost touching. He gave me a chaste kiss. He looked so young and vulnerable. It made my heart clench.

"I like waking up this way," he said with a scratchy voice.

"Oh?" I asked teasingly, willfully pushing all heavy thoughts out of my head, determined just to enjoy this beautiful man in my bed. "I can think of some other ways you like to wake up, too."

"So crass," he complained, and then looked a bit sheepish. "I don't have any more condoms." He looked so apologetic that it made me giggle.

"That's all right," I reassured him. "I think you've worn me out for a little while." I rolled my eyes at his proud expression.

"What are you going to do today?" he asked pushing the hair out of my eyes in a tender gesture. I shrugged as best I could in my lying down position.

"I have to take care of bills before the 31st, but that won't take long, and I don't have to do it today. I guess I need to keep studying, maybe get in a walk or a work out. I'm sorry I'm so boring," I told him. He raised his eyebrows.

"You, my dear, are anything but boring," he declared devilishly. His eyes raked regretfully down over my breasts and beyond. I shoved his shoulder playfully. He pretended to give me a contrite pout and continued. "I need to put in a couple of hours on the piano in one of practice rooms at Shepherd. I've been neglecting that over the last week. Would you want to come with me?" His face was hopeful.

I considered it. I was very curious about his musical talent and thought I'd enjoy listening to him play. I could bring a medical book with me and get some work done, too. What worried me was that I also didn't want to be away from him, and that was a frightening motivation to me. I thought about what I'd said about him being obsessed with me, and I wondered where the obsession really lay. Plus, Shepherd was all the way at the end of Rice's campus, by the stadium. I doubted I'd run into anyone I knew there. So, I smiled and told him I'd love to hear him play.

"We can go for a jog afterward, if you want. I need to stop by my house and pick up some stuff for tonight," he replied. I pulled my head back with a frown, and he grinned at me. "I'm not letting you out of my sight now," he declared. A trickle of unease crept up my spine at his words, but I didn't tell him no. I wanted him back in my bed tonight, but I knew it was going to become a problem at some point.

"We can take separate cars, so you can stop by your place," I suggested. His brow dropped, and he frowned.

"Why don't you want to come by my house, Bella?" he sounded hurt. "Don't you want to meet my friends?"

"Sure, I do. I just…it's just...underage drinking…" I trailed off unable to articulate it. He let out a frustrated huff.

"God, you are taking this age thing way too seriously!" he exclaimed. "I'm only 4 years younger than you are. When you're 44, I'll be 40, and no one will care." The naivety of his statement showed he hadn't really thought it through, but I didn't want to ruin our (up to now) perfect morning. So I just leaned forward and kissed his lips. That shut him up quickly.

"Fine, we'll stop by your house, but only because I want you to get more condoms," I told him playfully. He gave me a deep searing kiss in response to that, and I wasn't even worried about morning breath.

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We had to stop at Edward's house before going to the music school since he only had his dinner party clothes with him. I had hoped that any roommates back from break would still be sleeping, but apparently they were dedicated college athletes like Edward had told me. There were two sleep-rumpled guys in the kitchen when we walked in. I recognized the dark skin, dark hair, and long lashes of the Hispanic guy who pumped my beer at the party last week. He smiled pleasantly, but I didn't like the knowing smirk on the face of the blonde guy. He took in Edward's obvious "walk of shame" clothing and eyed me up and down.

"Hey, guys, this is Bella. Bella, this is Sam," he nodded toward the dark-haired guy, "and Paul." He indicated the blonde guy, whose smirk got wider. He opened his mouth obviously to make some comment, but Edward glared at him, and he closed it right back.

"Hey, Bella, nice to meet you, officially," Sam mumbled, while taking another bite of the cereal on the island in front of him. I wondered if he was a junior like Edward and if he had a future professional career or would end up in grad school or the work force like Jasper. Edward helpfully filled in the blanks.

"Sam's my year and plays mostly left field," he explained. "Paul's a senior and plays short stop. Bella's a third year at Baylor," he told them. Sam raised his eyebrows, indicating he was impressed. He looked like he wanted to comment, but Paul interrupted, continuing to leer at me.

"What are you doing with, Ed, then Bella?" Paul asked with a surprisingly nasal voice. "Cougar in training? Get it? Since UH's mascot is a cougar!" He laughed uproariously at his own joke, and the rest of us just stared at him. I regarded him with particular chagrin since I specifically didn't like the cougar label. My mom was about seven years older than Phil, and she was still called that ad nauseam by women in their ritzy neighborhood and by other nurses at the hospital. Edward noticed my silence.

"Paul, you're an asshole. C'mon, Bella, let's go up and get my stuff." And with that he ushered me out of the kitchen without another word and up the stairs. There were four doors off the small hallway at the top. Edward ushered me into the first one on the left.

"This is my room," he said simply. "Sam and Jared have the other rooms on this floor, and Paul converted the garage into a bedroom. It's where he belongs. The three of us up here share a bathroom." It was typical for a young man. A double-sized bed without a bed frame was against one wall. It had a plain navy blue comforter and sheets. A closet made up the wall opposite, and a dark wooden dresser was next to the door from the hall. A matching bedside table sat next to the bed with a lamp. A single window was in the wall above the pillows of the bed. It was surprisingly neat. The most outstanding thing was a bookshelf between the dresser and the closet. Instead of books, it was filled with CDs, cassette tapes, and records.

"Wow, your room is neat," I said as he watched me cautiously. He nodded in agreement.

"My parents taught me to be organized and clean up after myself. Coach Graham teaches us discipline. I try to take all the lessons to heart," he said simply. He was referring to Wayne Graham, the legendary coach of the Rice Owls, one of the few faculty members at Rice I'd never met and really wanted to. I just hummed a noncommittal response and crossed the room to run my hands over his cassette collection.

"Do you even have a cassette player still?" I asked him. It made me think of my dad, and they way he hoarded cassettes in his truck. They were always all over the place, and I had to shove them on the floor in order to sit when I rode with him. Edward grinned at me.

"Of course, I'm a music collector. You can see I have all genres archived there," he gestured at the bookcase. I perused it for a few minutes while he threw a few things in a bag and gathered some schoolbooks, I assumed for the practice room.

"I'm going to take a quick shower," he announced. "I worked up a sweat last night for some reason," he smirked at me knowingly. "I'd invite you to come along, but somehow I know you'll refuse to use my shared bathroom." He tried to act like he was teasing, but I thought I could detect a hint of censure. I smiled back at him gently.

"Yeah, I don't think now is the time, Edward." I agreed. He nodded back without smiling and left the room. I heard a door slam downstairs and looked out the window to see Paul exiting the front door. I decided to head back downstairs to wait for Edward in a more neutral location.

Sam was sitting on the black leather sofa in the living room watching TV when I came to the bottom of the stairs. He nodded at me in greeting but didn't speak. I sat down in the matching chair opposite him and turned my attention to the show he was watching. It was one of those makeover shows on HGTV. So maybe he was responsible for the relative neatness of the house's environs. We sat for a while before he finally spoke.

"Did you know Ed before the other night?" he asked quietly without looking at me, his eyes fixed on the TV.

"No," I said clearly but offered nothing else. He turned to look at me with his kind dark eyes.

"I'm just asking 'cause I'm surprised to see you here. Edward doesn't bring many girls around," he told me. I arched a brow skeptically, since Edward had already admitted he'd had plenty of girls before me. I wasn't sure why Sam would say that. "I'm serious. I don't think he's ever introduced me to anyone before," he persisted. I tightened my jaw. That statement made me uncomfortable for some reason.

"Well," was all I could say, because I wasn't sure how to respond to his statement. We were interrupted then as Edward pounded down the stairs. He was wearing mesh shorts, a t-shirt, and running shoes, and carrying a duffle bag. He was smiling widely when he rounded the corner into the room. We both looked up at him.

"You ready to go?" he asked me. His hair was damp from the shower, and it was all I could do from jumping on him right then. I nodded and bit my lip. Sam spoke then before we could leave.

"Paul wants to have a get together tonight. It's Friday night and all," he said warily. Edward looked at me, and then he looked quickly away.

"Sure," he responded. "Just make sure my door is closed. I don't want anyone in there. We're busy." Sam looked surprised by his statement and turned to stare at me curiously, but finally he nodded and agreed. Edward gestured for me to go ahead of him out the front door. Sam called after us.

"What about New Year's, Edward?" he asked. I turned back to look at him, and Edward winked at me.

"I told you that I've got my parents' thing," he called back.

"Oh, yeah," Sam replied. "Well, I can't make any promises about the state of this place on January 1," he laughed. Edward just waved his hand behind him at Sam and let the door close behind us. He ushered me back to his car, and we headed to campus.

"Well," he asked once we were driving. "What did you think?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"Your house is well kept? Sam seems nice? I'm not sure what you want me to say," I admitted. He chuckled a little.

"Yeah, Paul's an asshole. He keeps thinking he has a future in baseball, but it's not going to happen. I don't know what else he'll do either, since he's not that bright," Edward admitted. I laughed a little at that, too. "We used to get along better, but now…" he let the thought trail off. I hoped I wasn't the reason. I didn't want to come between him and his friends, despite the size of their assholes. He'd still be living and playing with Paul once whatever we were doing was over.

The rest of the day was quiet. We spent several hours in a practice room at Shepherd, and I never saw anyone who might recognize me. Edward was extremely talented as far as I could tell, and I really enjoyed listening to him play. He was beyond adorable with his brow crinkled, mouth turned down in a pout, as he hunched over the keyboard. His baseball cap seemed discordant combined with the regal looking instrument. Finally, after enjoying watching him work, I pulled out one of my books and spent some time reviewing things for my new rotation. We were able to exist together well, and to my great surprise, we both accomplished a lot in just a few hours.

We went for another walk around the campus loop afterward, incorporating a bit of jogging at Edward's urging. I knew he needed more exercise than I did to get ready for his intense practice schedule looming, so I did my best to keep up. I think he slowed himself down though a little. Or a lot. I didn't say anything, because I was having fun.

When we got back to my apartment, Edward declared that he needed another shower, and this time he wouldn't take no for an answer from me. My t-shirt was off before the front door was even closed, which wasn't so bad since I was wearing a sports bra after all. His duffle ended up underneath the bar, and he toed off his running shoes immediately. His eyes locked me in a predatory stare, and he stalked across my small living room towards me.

His fingers gripped my waist firmly and began to slowly slide up to the bottom of my sports bra. I was sweaty, but he didn't seem to care as his large, capable fingers slipped enticingly underneath the elastic band. He smiled cheekily, his eyes never leaving mine, as he slowly peeled the offending garment up over my arms and shoulders. It joined my t-shirt on the living room floor.

He stared with open lust at my bare breasts and reached for them immediately, running his thumbs over my nipples teasingly like he'd done the night before. I pressed into his hands eagerly and brought my arms around his shoulders, pulling him toward me. I kissed him hungrily as he abandoned my breasts and moved lower to the waistband of my shorts. I allowed him to pull them down and stepped out of them obligingly, but then I took a step back from him.

"Ah, ah, ah," I cautioned and skipped backward further when he tried to grab for me. He groaned in frustration and let his head drop to his chest as I skipped into the bathroom and quickly turned on the water in the shower. "I want it to be warm by the time, we're ready to get wet," I explained suggestively with a huge grin when I peeked back into the room. His answering grin was just a large, and he quickly removed his shirt and shorts.

He stood completely naked in all his glory in my living room, and I couldn't help but stare speechlessly. He was perfect, a Greek statue. Every muscle was sculpted just so, not too bulky, but not too lean. There was not a blemish on him. His erection was straining towards me, large and inviting. I was filled with desire, but a small part of me knew that this perfect being could not be meant for me.

I tried to ignore that knowledge and beckoned him towards me and removed my underwear at the same time. He slammed me up against the bathroom door shortly afterward, enveloping me in a searing kiss. His erection was sandwiched between us, and I could feel it twitching, eager and ready.

"Edward, I can't wait for the water to warm up," I murmured into his shoulder. He disappeared into the living room and returned in a flash with a condom in his hand.

"Don't worry, I made sure we have plenty of these," he promised with a smirk as he lifted me onto the bathroom counter next to the sink. I leaned back against the mirror, and some of my toiletries skittered to the floor, but I hardly noticed. The height was perfect, and without further ado, Edward rolled the condom on and thrust into me. My legs wrapped around his waist, and he picked up speed, pounding into me with abandon.

"Oh, I wish you could see us from this angle," he panted. My eyes had drifted closed in pleasure, but they snapped open.

"Why?" I asked breathlessly.

"Because, I can watch myself fucking you, and it's pretty awesome," he ground out. And he picked up speed, halting any attempt I might have made to answer that. I saw stars, and he climaxed just after I did. If I'd thought we were sweating before, now we really needed a shower.

We both smiled stupidly at each other as our breathing began to return to normal. Edward tossed the condom, and we climbed into the shower together. We spent the time kissing, touching, and finally, actually washing each other. We finished the shower without any more funny business.

After we were both dressed, I made us a dinner of eggs, bacon, and toast. We washed it down with a couple of beers and snuggled on the couch watching silly TV. It was one of the nicest evenings I'd had in years. Our desire for each other couldn't last the night, so we came together again before going to sleep and maybe another time during the night. And definitely when we woke up the next morning. It was scary how easy it was to be with Edward. I worried how easily I could get used to it.

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Saturday was shaping up very similar to Friday except that we went to IHOP for breakfast and skipped the trip to Edward's house. My phone rang as we were climbing the stairs to the apartment after our jog, so there would be no repeat of the bathroom sex from the day before, unfortunately. It was Alice. Edward quirked a brow at me, and I tried to decide whether or not to answer. He was watching me closely, and I knew he worried that I was trying to hide our relationship. And he wasn't wrong to worry about that. I felt guilty so I took the call.

"Hey, Alice," I answered, holding the phone between my shoulder and ear as I unlocked the door. Edward followed me inside and went straight to the bathroom to shower alone, and, I guess, give me some privacy. "What's up?" I said, dropping onto the edge couch, facing toward the sliding glass door to the balcony.

"Not much. Are you busy tonight?" she asked. I was quiet for a minute, glancing toward the bathroom, trying to figure out how to answer. She must have heard my hesitation.

"Wait, are you not alone?" she squealed. I shook my head at her enthusiasm.

"No, I'm not, but he's in the shower right now," I told her and then kicked myself for offering so much information.

"Well…" she drew the word out offensively. "I guess it's way past kissing stage then. I'm so happy for you, Bella," she gushed. I cleared my throat uncomfortably and said nothing.

"Right, I know how you don't like to talk about your feelings, so I'll stop," she assured me. I heard the shower go off in the background. "Anyway, I'll assume you're busy tonight." I sighed in relief, pleased that I would get a repeat of last night's perfect evening.

"But, you're not off the hook!" she trilled. I was unsurprised as this was classic Alice. I waited for her terms. "You've got to come over tomorrow night for dinner and bring Edward. Jasper will be there, and we'll have a couples evening." I groaned at the thought and rubbed my fingers over my sweat-stained forehead.

"Alice, I don't know. It seems a little soon, you know," I began to argue but strong arms slid around my waist, and warm, damp lips found their way beneath my ear. I leaned into Edward and quickly realized he was wearing only a low-slung towel around his waist. I lost my train of thought.

"No, I won't take no for an answer," she insisted, and suddenly, I had no desire to argue with her anymore. In fact, I wanted off the phone immediately.

"Fine," I told her, turning towards Edward, who moved his attention to my jaw, then my collarbone. I was wearing too many clothes.

"What?" she asked incredulously. "That's all you're going to say. Well, then be here at 6," she demanded.

"Okay, bye," is all I said, pressing the end button. And in a short time, Edward needed another shower.

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A/N: I will be on vacation next week and probably won't have a Wifi connection until I get back home on the 17th, so the next chapter will probably go up then, a couple of days late.

Thanks to everyone for continuing to read and review!

CAS (who reviewed as a guest) and anyone else interested: I am very familiar with Methodist Hospital since it was a part of Baylor when I was a student there, and one of my closest friends is a staff physician. Methodist and Baylor had a messy, spectacular divorce in late 2004, and Methodist created their own residency programs unaffiliated with a medical school (for the most part). The original Orthopedics Dept from Baylor sided with Methodist in the divorce, hence its ties with the major sports teams in the area (I did see Hakeem Olajuwon once on a rotation at Methodist!). The Internal Medicine and General Surgery Depts sided with Baylor, and the residency programs associated with Methodist in those specialties are decidedly weaker.

However, my story doesn't work unless Bella wants to stay for her residency at the place where she is in medical school. So, I've taken some artistic license and am ignoring the existence of Methodist Hospital in this universe. I think that's fair since I have also created a fictitious baseball star, making anything I write about the Astros less than accurate. But I am a great stickler for accuracy in my stories, so I felt obligated to explain the above since it was brought to my attention. Thanks.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Well, I'm pleased to announce that our vacation rental has passable wifi! Please enjoy the next chapter a bit earlier than expected…

**Chapter 7**

_December 30, 2007-January 1, 2008_

Edward and I enjoyed our evening firmly inside our bubble. I didn't have a chance to let him know what I'd agreed to until the next morning. We'd greeted each other when we awoke in what was becoming our usual way. He'd gotten up to clean himself and had just slid back under the covers when I broached the subject.

"So, I need to let you know what I had to promise in order to get off the phone with Alice yesterday afternoon," I declared. His face was buried in my shoulder, and he was playing with my hair. Our legs were tangled together. My words caused him to pull back and look into my face.

"What?" he asked looked curious and maybe a little scared.

"We have to have dinner at her place tonight. Jasper Whitlock will be there, like a double date," I told him apprehensively. I should have known better than to doubt his reaction. His face broke out into a beaming smile.

"Well, that's great," he said pushing my hair back from my face and kissing my chin. "I want to meet your friends, Bella. I know you're worried about how things will work between us, but they will. I promise. And you'll see even more when you meet my parents tomorrow night." I tensed, and he could tell given our proximity.

"Relax," he instructed, running his fingers along my jaw from ear to chin, and I had no choice but to do so, damn him. He knew how to play my body like his keyboard already.

"Edward, I don't know about your parents' party. It seems too fast," I shared my concern. He huffed dismissively. "We've only know each other a week." I tried to reason.

"Ten days," he muttered under his breath like that made a difference. His correction only made me more concerned about his maturity and ability to have a real relationship. But I was selfish, and I didn't want to be away from him. I knew our time was limited, so I didn't fight him.

"Fine," I acquiesced. "I agree, I don't have any other plans. From what you've said, it will probably be fun. I guess we'll have to leave the bubble for the next two nights."

"The bubble?" he asked curiously.

"You know, where we are just here together and don't have to worry about the outside world," I clarified. He gazed seriously into my eyes.

"The bubble's no good, Bella," he cautioned. "I want you in the real world." And he proceeded for the second time that morning to try and convince me how much he meant it.

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Edward went back to Shepherd to study that morning, but I stayed at the apartment and did my bills and picked up a little bit. I visited the apartment complex gym, and Edward visited the athletic gym on campus. I knew he was getting anxious about the upcoming season. He returned in the afternoon, and we showered together again. It was like I couldn't control myself around him, and his turn around time was ridiculously quick.

We arrived about 15 minutes late to Alice's apartment by design. I had to literally force myself not to leave early, and Edward was surprisingly helpful in that department, as I've just described. Alice lived in a large, loft-style apartment in midtown. The area had been gentrified maybe 5-6 years ago, and she bought the space when she moved back from Mississippi. It was extremely nice and well decorated since she had excellent taste. But I suspected her parents had helped with the down payment, if not the monthly mortgage payments, too.

Alice opened the door with a beaming face. She was completely overdressed in black tap pants and a frilly teal top that ended right at her natural waist, exposing a thin sliver of bare skin between the blouse and pants. Edward and I were both wearing jeans, and I smirked a little when Jasper came forward to greet us, also in jeans. She offered us drinks, and I accepted a glass of white wine, while Edward chose the ubiquitous Shiner.

Edward cast me an apprehensive glance as he drifted toward the living space and large flat screen TV. Alice herded me away toward the kitchen area, fiddling with food on the stove and in the oven.

"So, I made hot tamales. I know you love those," she began.

"Wow, thanks, Alice," I assured her. The Mississippi Delta version of tamales was quite different from the more, well known Mexican version. She usually paired it with red beans and rice, and I was pleased to see a pot of that simmering on the stove. "You made my favorite." She frowned at me.

"It's not just for you. I've never cooked for Jasper before, and I wanted to present traditional Mississippi fare," she corrected. I bowed my head, indicating I understood. "So, how are things going with the young hottie?" she demanded tactlessly. "Does he go all night? Because I could tell you some stories about Jasper…"

"Stop!" I demanded. "I will not discuss this with you. We are getting along. That's all you need to know. I don't see how it can work out long term. He's too young, and our goals are too different. So don't push it. I can't stand it," I erupted at her. She looked a bit stunned.

"Wow. You must really like him," she concluded. I shook my head at her willful misunderstanding of my outburst.

"Whatever, Alice, let's just enjoy this evening," I muttered. She looked at me sharply before turning back to put the final touches on her masterpiece.

"Bella, if you mess this up, you will regret it forever," she warned. I refilled my wine glass and walked away before I said something that would ruin the night.

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Edward and Jasper had kindled a bromance. When I returned to the living area, they were watching ESPN and arguing about some kind of video game. They had only known each other in passing during high school, but it was obvious they were renewing old acquaintances. I sat quietly next to Edward on Alice's leather couch, while Jasper gave him batting pointers. He also had a lot of advice on exercises and ways to avoid overuse injuries common to pitchers. It seemed an odd knowledge for an MBA student to have. I envied the ease with which they furthered their acquaintance into an obvious friendship, regardless of the age difference. For them, it didn't matter.

Alice announced dinner, and we sat down at her trendy dining set. A chandelier made of deer antlers hung above the table, and I felt it was at odds with the modern openness of the loft, but Alice said it was ironic. I decided to stick with the blended hand-me-down and Target theme in my own apartment, but I was still a renter so what did I know.

We all chatted easily about what the new semester would bring us all, since we were all still in education, as students for me, Edward, and Jasper and as an educator for Alice. The conversation flowed steadily, and I was surprised how well we all got along. Edward held my hand under the table, and Alice smirked at me when she noticed. We all switched to wine, even the guys, after awhile, and before we knew it, we were on the third bottle.

Jasper put on Dazed and Confused, the very movie I'd referenced before Cindy's party when I accused Alice of wanting to be Wooderson. She smirked at me as both Jasper and Edward recited lines along with the actors. It was a very classic Texas movie; I had to admit. Finally, it was getting late, and we had to go. Neither Edward nor I were in any condition to drive so we summoned a taxi.

I caught the taxi driver watching us in the rear view mirror as Edward dragged me onto his lap and sucked on the skin behind my ear. He looked away chastened, and I tried to gently push Edward away until we were safely back in my apartment, but he seemed unable to help himself.

"Edward," I chided, and he looked at me with slightly bleary eyes.

"I can't help myself," he pouted adorably.

"Act like a grown up," I hissed. His face fell, and he pulled back instantly. He slid away from me on the seat and looked out the window away form me. I felt immediate remorse, knowing I'd pushed a hot button.

"At least until we get back to the apartment, OK," I moved toward him and whispered in his ear, as I ran a hand through his hair and along his cheek. He responded by leaning into my hand and closing his eyes.

I figured I was forgiven, but he was silent for the rest of the trip. When we got back to the apartment complex, he paid the driver, ignoring my protests. He took my hand and led me up the stairs and into my bedroom. He proceeded to love me in a desperate way, almost like he wanted to devour me. We melted into each other, but there was an unspoken barrier that it seemed we couldn't cross.

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The next morning we managed to banish the melancholy from the night before and didn't speak of it any further, much to my relief. Edward seemed excited about his parents' party, but I was very nervous.

"So what do I need to wear?" I queried from the bed as he threw on a shirt and shorts, headed to my apartment complex gym. I'd meet him there once I got going. "I hope it's not too fancy. I'm not sure I have anything like that." He paused in tying the laces of his running shoes and frowned.

"Cocktail attire," he said decisively. I narrowed my eyes.

"Do you even know what that means?" I asked. "I'm nervous enough to meet your parents this soon. Don't let me look like an idiot." He rose from the floor and leaned over me. His chaste kiss on the cheek deepened as his tongue entered my mouth, and I pulled on his wrists causing him to collapse on me. We both giggled as he floundered and gained his balance.

"You could never look like an idiot," he insisted. "You're gorgeous," his bright green eyes bored into mine. "But, cocktail attire means a short, fancy, frilly dress with high heeled shoes." He looked so pleased to be able to provide such an answer that I laughed out loud.

"Is that what your mom will wear?" I asked. He nodded with a smile.

"I'll wear a suit and tie but no tux," he declared. I squinted at him.

"Will your dad wear a tux?" I questioned. He shook his head.

"No way, my dad hates tuxes. He has to go to lots of burn fundraisers, so he'd never agree to it for fun." I liked Dr. Masen already from that description. Phil would probably wear a tux in the operating room if he could get away with it. That probably explained Edward's aversion to true footwear, I decided.

"Okay," I agreed. "I have a few things that might work. You go on to the gym. I'll be over there in a while," I shooed him out and sat up, bringing the sheet with me to cover my chest. Edward leered at the bare skin below my collarbone, and I rolled my eyes and waved my fingers at him, indicating that he should get out.

I got up and donned my work out clothes and perused the back of the closet. I had a strapless tea length lace dress with a satin sash in dark navy that my mom had bought me the year before for a Texas Heart Institute fundraiser. It flared into an A-line just below the waist, and I had thought it was extremely flattering when I wore it before. I had a pewter clutch and matching high-heeled sandals that would probably go well with it. I inspected my toenails. They weren't bad, but I'd need to at least paint them if they would be on display in the fancy shoes.

Edward reluctantly admitted he needed to head back to his house after we finished our workouts. His clothes were there, and he needed to do some laundry and other things around the house. He promised to return for me by 6 pm. Hors d'oeuvres would start at 7 pm, and he wanted a chance to introduce me to his parents before the other guests arrived. My stomach flip-flopped at the thought.

Much to my discomfort, he insisted we would spend the night at their house. He promised they wouldn't mind and would have a guest room ready for me. He kissed my cheek as he left and whispered hotly about the deviant things he had planned for when he snuck into said guest room later that night. My cheeks were warm when I closed the door behind him.

He returned as planned. I opened the door to admit him, but he stood still, staring at me stunned. I was self-conscious and smoothed the skirt of my dress down and brushed off invisible lint on the bodice while I waited for him to say something. Finally, he spoke.

"You're stunning," he said simply and reached for me. He kissed me chastely, obviously trying to avoid mussing my make-up.

"Thanks," I said and stood back to admire him. He was wearing dark blue suit with a striped dark and light blue tie. But it was obviously tailored to him, and his broad chest and narrow hips were fabulously displayed. I gulped when I looked closely at him. There was no way I could navigate the evening with someone who looked like this and still make an effort to understand his parents and their guests.

He smirked at my continued silence and obvious perusal.

"Are you ready?' he asked cheekily. I took a shaky breath and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm ready. You clean up pretty well, Edward," I tried to act nonchalant.

"Bella, you have no idea," was all he could reply. I didn't totally understand, but I was so nervous about the evening that I just went with it. I grabbed my purse, and we made our way to his car. We made small talk on the ride over, but I sensed he was getting just as nervous as me, which made me even more nervous. I mean they were his parents after all.

Edward's parents lived in one of the large homes right on River Oaks Boulevard, the main street in Houston's most affluent area. He pressed a button to open a black wrought iron fence and turned into the driveway of a large brick home, painted white, with black shutters. The green lawn was impeccable, and the drive curved around toward the back from the street. Tall trees would lend shade over the beautiful yard during the day. I glanced behind us as the gate closed behind us. We passed a black van going in the other direction as we climbed the hill.

"Those are probably the valets going down to open the gate for everyone else," Edward remarked. "My parents usually make arrangements to park the cars off site." Well, well, I should have bragged to my mom and Phil about being invited to this party if it was going to be that kind of affair. They were all for the social climbing.

But the thought of admitting to my mother that I was dating Edward caused me to swallow hard and turn pale. Edward pressed another button, and one of the doors on a three-car garage slowly rose up. He pulled smoothly into the empty space.

"Your parents keep an empty garage just in case you drop by?" I asked teasingly. He gave me a lop-sided grin, and I felt a jolt of jealousy at his obviously easy relationship with his parents. He didn't answer, so I knew that was, in fact, just what this garage was for. He put the car in park and insisted that I stay seated until he came around to help me out. Then, he led me past a large black Mercedes sedan and a silver Porsche to the garage entrance to the house.

We came through a spotless but homey mudroom into the kitchen, and Edward called out as we progressed. "Mom, Dad, we're here!" The kitchen was large and bustling with catering personnel dressed in black pants and white shirts accented with a bowtie and cumberbund swarming over state of the art appliances. They didn't even spare us a glance, highlighting their professionalism. They looked sharp, and the food smelled wonderful. I'd have to get the name of the caterer for my mom.

An elegant woman in her late 40's appeared in the kitchen doorway. She was wearing a long-sleeved, knee length black dress that hugged her svelte figure in a tasteful way. She turned slightly, and I could see the back plunged suggestively to mid back. Her pale, blonde hair was piled on her head in an elegant chignon, displaying very large, obviously real diamond studs in her ears. She smiled tenderly at Edward when she saw him. I could tell from across the room that she had the same striking green eyes as her son.

"Edward, why did you drag your guest through the garage?" she scolded and turned to me expectantly. Edward chuckled lightly and placed his hand on the small of my back, urging me forward slightly.

"Mom, this is Bella Swan, my girlfriend. Bella, this is Elizabeth Masen, my mother," he made the introductions. I felt intimidated, and especially uncomfortable about the label, but fell back on all my prior etiquette training and stepped forward to offer my hand. She took it and squeezed in a friendly gesture. Her smile was welcoming, and I felt better.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bella. Welcome to our home. Please come through to the library, where we've set up the bar, so I can introduce you to my husband. Unless Edward wants to show you the laundry room?" With this last, she quirked her brow at her son, and I saw where he got his cheekiness. Edward just ducked his head with an embarrassed smile. We followed her through several doorways, and I made a few comments about how lovely their home was. She accepted the pleasantries gracefully.

We entered the library, which was, in fact, a beautiful room completely lined floor to ceiling with books. It was all dark wood and leather chairs, but comfortable somehow. I would have loved to curl up in one of those chairs with a book and whiled away the afternoon. Edward's father was speaking to the bartender when we approached. He broke off and gave us a welcoming smile when he saw us.

"Edward, son, so glad you made it," he greeted. "Who do we have here?" he asked giving me a friendly smile and extending his hand. I took it and gave him a firm handshake.

"Dad, this is Bella Swan," Edward introduced me. "Bella, this is my father, Edward Masen, Sr." Edward Sr was tall, just like Edward was, with dark salt and pepper hair and dark eyes. I wondered where Edward's unusual hair color had come from. I thought he had his father's stature but looked more like his mother.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Dr. Masen," I said earnestly at the end of the handshake. "Thank you for having me," I looked back and forth between Dr. and Mrs. Masen so they knew I was addressing them both. Dr. Masen chuckled.

"None of that now. It's Edward and Elizabeth," he insisted. I blushed and cast my eyes toward my feet. I'd never been very good with parents. Edward squeezed my hand, somehow intuiting my discomfort.

"Bella is a medical student at Baylor, Dad," Edward told him, stepping away from me to engage the bartender. I smiled nervously and met Edward, Sr.'s eyes. His eyebrows rose very slightly.

"Is that so?" he asked me. "What year?"

"Third year," I answered, internally cringing. The eyebrows went a bit higher.

"Well, then have you chosen a specialty?" he asked politely. I nodded with a plastered smile on my face.

"Yes, orthopedic surgery," I told him. He nodded vigorously.

"That's a great field. I hope Edward never needs your services," he quipped, and I relaxed a little. Elizabeth entered the conversation as Edward handed both of us glasses of white wine.

"How did you meet Edward?" she asked innocently. Edward retrieved a glass of beer from the bar and turned back toward us.

"She went to Rice, Mom," he interjected, cutting off the line of questioning. His lips tightened and his brow dipped slightly as he shot her a look. I wondered if he didn't want her to understand the circumstances of our meeting or if he was trying to keep her from upsetting me. I held my breath at the tension, but Elizabeth smiled, and it dissipated.

"Of course," she said graciously. "Go Owls!" Her dainty fist pump was comical, and we all laughed. Then, we were interrupted by a commotion in another room, which I'd yet to see. New voices were raised, and a woman in a similar but distinct uniform from the caterers ushered the newcomers into the room. They must have come from the formal foyer, where Elizabeth thought Edward should have brought me in.

I took in the 50ish couple that swept in the room. They were both handsome with pale hair, eyes, and complexion. Elizabeth exclaimed excitedly and rushed to greet them, hugs all around. That's when I noticed, that the couple was trailed by a young girl with equally pale coloring in a striking red halter dress. Her eyes went straight to Edward. My stomach dropped, and I knew instantly who she was. Edward stiffened next to me, as she sauntered toward us.

"Hey, again, Edward," Kate greeted him and looked at me curiously. The parents were greeting each other next to us, deep in conversation, the "kids" forgotten.

"Kate, I'd like you to meet Bella, my girlfriend," he said formally. She gave him an appraising look and then turned her attention toward me. She inspected me for a moment and then smiled. She offered her hand.

"Hi, I'm Kate," she said. "Very nice to meet you. Edward and I used to play together as kids. We just saw each other again for the first time the other night," she explained.

"Likewise," was all I could manage as I shook her offered hand. I hoped I gave her an acceptable smile, but I felt a little cold. She squeezed my hand but didn't let it go and leaned in conspiratorially.

"I think my parents were trying to set me up with Edward," she whispered but loud enough for all three of us to hear. "They obviously didn't know he had a girlfriend. It's kind of embarrassing that they think I can't take care of that myself." She made a self-deprecating face.

I hated that I couldn't hate her. She seemed lovely and honest. Edward was right about her; I did think she was unwitting. The three of us chuckled together, all relaxing a little. Edward offered to get her a drink and stepped around the parents to get to the bar.

"Edward had nice things to say about you the other night," Kate said when he was out of earshot. "I'm sorry you had to miss the dinner party." She seemed very sincere, so Edward had obviously implied that the two of us had been together longer than we had. I didn't contradict her.

"Yes, me too," I agreed and took a sip of my wine. I wasn't sure where this possessiveness was coming from, but I didn't fight it. She smiled genuinely at me.

"My parents would have loved to see me in medical school," she confided. "I think my dad considers studying education as a waste of time. Not to mention I'm at St. Thomas. I know they wished I'd gone to a bigger school."

"Well, if he really thinks that, then he couldn't be more wrong," I assured her. "My old roommate works for Teach for America and did classroom work for two years in Mississippi. I know for a fact that her job has been rewarding." Kate's face lit up.

"Really?" she asked excitedly. "I'd love to do work like that." I wanted to roll my eyes at her earnestness. It would be so much easier if she were a bitch.

"Yeah," I confirmed. "If you give me your number, then I can give it to Alice. She can contact you about things to do when you get close to graduation." I pulled my phone out of my clutch, and she grabbed it eagerly, punching in the numbers. Edward reappeared at my shoulder and passed Kate her drink.

"You guys getting along?" he asked cheerfully, but I thought I caught a hint of wariness. I nodded, but Kate confirmed it more effusively. Edward looked relieved. I noticed the room had filled up in the interim, and servers were moving around the room with passed hors d'oeuvres. We were definitely the only young people.

"Will there be any more people your age?" I asked Edward. He frowned at my choice of words, but Kate didn't seem to notice.

"Well, I invited Sam, but he's hanging out with his girlfriend away from the rager at our house, and my best friend from high school is in Tallahassee with his college buddies tonight. So, we make up the younger crowd. Sorry," Edward shrugged but gave me hard look.

"Okay with me," I chirped smiling widely at both of them. Edward relaxed a little and then smiled mischievously.

"Allow me," he said mysteriously and motioned for us to follow him. We passed the bar, and Edward snagged two bottles of wine from the chill bucket. He snaked his hand around the bartender and came away with a church key. He waved it in front of himself wordlessly, wiggling his eyebrows ridiculously. Kate and I both giggled. He gestured for us to follow him.

We ended up on an outdoor patio. It was dark, and a little chilly, and it was obviously closed to party guests. As my eyes adjusted, I realized we were on the pool deck. The Texas sky opened above us. Edward sank onto a pool lounger and gestured for me to sit next to him. He directed Kate to the lounger across from ours. Once the two of us were comfortable, he got up and disappeared under the eaves of a smaller building beyond the pool, likely the pool house. He returned with beach towels and dropped them at the foot of the loungers and gestured to us. If we were cold, we could wrap up in the towels.

So the three of us huddled together and worked our way through those two bottles of wine. Kate was great company. She never pouted or seemed sorry to be a third wheel, and although, she was nowhere near as intelligent as Edward, she made interesting conversation. I knew Alice would love her, and I resolved to introduce the two soon.

We were giggling about something or other when Kate suddenly asked what time it was. Edward pulled out his phone, and we were all surprised to see that it was 11:55. Kate nodded solemnly and stood.

"It's time for me to go in. My parents will want to go soon," she declared. Edward and I both made discouraging sounds, but I kind of wanted her to go and allow me to spend the New Year moment with Edward alone. We may have been on the same page because Edward didn't argue with her much.

"Happy New Year, you guys," she said with a smile as she stepped back inside. We were left in silence and turned to face each other. He finally spoke.

"Bella, I'm so glad I met you, and I can't wait to see how the year plays out," he told me seriously. "I know you're still not sure, but I hope I can convince you." I swallowed a lump in my throat. I wanted to tell him the year would be great, and we would make it, but I knew the odds were against us. He wasn't realistic about me. But again, I was selfish, and I wanted him as long as I could have him.

"Edward," I breathed and that was all I could say. I pressed my lips to his. He took no time in engaging me further. Our mouths opened and our tongues tangled. Edward turned me and laid me out on the pool lounger, climbing on top of me. His tongue dipped lower, tracing my bodice where it met my chest. His hands slid up my thighs under my lace skirt.

We were interrupted by a bright flash and explosion. We froze, and Edward rolled off to crowd me on the lounger. We stared up at the sky and watched the fireworks show that unfolded. I felt safe and hopeful in that moment. We stayed silent for the duration of the spectacle. When it was over, Edward twisted slightly to whisper in my ear.

"Happy New Year, Bella," he said. "I'm in love with you."

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A/N: Thanks for continuing to read and support. If you feel strongly about what you see, then feel free to drop me a review. Based on the number of recent follows, it seems that a very low percentage are doing so. Pretty please

Until next week! EG


	8. Chapter 8

I'm thrilled to have been named as a Top 3 Favorite on Tarbecca's Fic Dive of the Month on ADF. Thank you so much to everyone who voted for my story.

_From Chapter 7: "Happy New Year, Bella," he said. "I'm in love with you."_

Chapter 8

_January 1-7, 2008_

Elizabeth stepped out on the pool deck then and called out to Edward. She couldn't see us in the dark, but we both straightened up and put our clothing back in order. I was glad I didn't have to answer him because I wasn't sure what I would say. He took my hand and led me back toward the house.

"There you are," his mother said when she caught sight of us. "Come inside and say goodnight to everyone." We made small talk with the remaining guests for about another hour when they were finally all gone. Elizabeth flopped dramatically onto a leather armchair with the back of her hand over her forehead, while Edward Sr. drained the last of his scotch.

"Remind me again why we do this every year," she laughed and shot a warm smile at her husband. He shook his head indulgently; I think he was more than a little drunk. Edward just chuckled at their silliness.

"Can I do anything to help?" I asked feeling awkward intruding on their family moment. She brought her hand away from her face and lifted her head.

"No, Sweetie, the caterers are going to take care of everything. But that's kind of you to offer," she answered. Edward cleared his throat.

"We're going to head up to bed," he told his parents. His mom cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Sure, good night, Hon. Mrs. Goff put Bella's bag in the blue guest room," she directed unsubtly. I looked at the floor to keep her from seeing my smile. I followed Edward out of the room. I saw her haul herself out of the chair and drape herself on Edward, Sr. His replying grin was a little lecherous and a lot familiar. So there were some ways in which Edward took after his father.

True to his word, I wasn't alone in the blue guest room for long before Edward tiptoed in. He kept it dark and slid under the covers behind me and proceeded to make good on all his threats from the previous afternoon.

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I woke up alone and guessed by the slant of the light that it was late morning. I freshened up and got dressed in the bathroom attached to my bedroom, then slipped out in the hallway. I made my way to the door of the room I knew to be Edward's bedroom and peeked inside, but it was empty. I figured he must be downstairs, and I decided to go on down. I didn't want to be known as the girl who stayed in bed all day when everyone else was up.

I headed toward the back stairs, which Edward had shown me the night before led down to a small hallway just outside the kitchen. The front staircase was a grand affair leading to the marbled formal foyer. I reached the bottom and paused when I heard voices coming from the kitchen. Elizabeth was speaking.

"That's not what I said, Hon. She's lovely and obviously very bright. But a medical student, Edward? She's got a long road ahead of her with residency. You know that. How is that going to work long term if you move away after the draft? She won't be free to visit with her grueling schedule. I think it's great that you're behaving more seriously, but don't go too far in the other direction. Be reasonable, Edward. I don't want you to jeopardize your bright future." I heard Edward raise his voice in argument, but I didn't stay to hear any more.

I raced as quietly as possible back up the stairs and closed myself in the guest bathroom. I sat on the closed toilet lid, balanced my elbows on my knees, and hid my face in my hands. Elizabeth was exactly right, and those very sentiments had been tickling the back of my mind. But hearing those words said out loud by another person was a shock.

I thought about the wonderful Kate from last night. She was such a better choice for someone like Edward. She would be free to visit him, maybe even move to wherever he ended up. She could support him and cheer for him from the stands. I would never be able to do that.

I knew what the right thing to do was. I needed to go down to the kitchen, ask Edward to take me home, and then tell him we couldn't see each other anymore. It was a hopeless situation. But I didn't do it. I stayed seated right where I was because I finally understood the strange emotions that had been swirling in my brain over the last few days. I thought back to Edward's words at midnight and saw the truth. I was in love with him, too.

And too selfish to let him go now even though I knew it was going to hurt when I eventually had to do it. So, when he knocked on the bathroom door a few minutes later and asked if I'd be ready to go soon, I called through the door that I'd be out in a second. I pulled myself together and opened the door with a smile.

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Edward and I settled into a steady routine over the next week. He never said anything to me about his mother's reservations and acted like the evening had been a great success. Unofficial baseball practice started on the 2nd even though school was not back in session for Rice, so he spent several hours a day with that and even met Jasper a few times over at Bellaire High School for some batting practice. They seemed to be developing a tight friendship. I spent the time apart studying and working out in The Greenbriar gym.

But every night, we met back at my apartment to eat take-out or heat up something frozen. After dinner we would watch a little TV, discuss our days, and eventually end up in bed where Edward would make love to me desperately. It was pure bliss, but some level of dread remained at the back of mind. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

We lay naked in bed on the evening of January 6, the night before we both had to go back to school. Edward was combing his fingers through my hair and placing light kisses on my shoulders and neck. Our legs were still tangled together, and our breathing was just returning normal.

"I don't know how I'm going to stand being away from you all day long," he said between kisses. I sighed.

"Edward, I'm going to have to stay overnight at the hospital probably every third or fourth night, too. I'll have to go in on the weekends. I told you all of this," I reminded him.

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," he pouted. "And I'll have to travel once the season starts. But we'll make it work," he declared confidently. That dread at the back of my mind crept closer to the front.

"And, I'll have to study on the nights I'm home, too. We won't be able to keep our evenings like they've been this past week," I cautioned. He just smiled at me naively believing everything was going to be all right. I knew I should speak up, tell him that it was going to be harder than he could imagine, but I didn't want to ruin this last evening.

So I scooted myself closer to him and caught his chin with my index finger, bringing his face up to mine. I initiated a searing kiss, immediately plunging my tongue inside his mouth, and he responded by deepening it further. I could feel him growing hard again against my hip. He was sufficiently distracted from the heavy discussion, and we proceeded to love each other until we both fell asleep.

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The alarm went off at 6 am, and it felt awfully early. Two weeks of sleeping in and no real schedule had spoiled me. Edward stirred but didn't fully wake up. I had to be at the Department of Orthopedic Surgery conference room for a 7 am Radiology conference, but Edward didn't have a class starting until 9. Against my better judgment, he had convinced me to give him a key to my apartment a few days ago. So, I let him keep sleeping.

I wore nice pants and a button up blouse with comfortable shoes. Hopefully, I'd be cleared to wear scrubs in the future, but I wanted to make a good impression on my first day of the rotation.

I knew the basic schedule. There would be a department conference of various topics every morning at 7. The entire department, including attendings, residents, and students, would be present. There were four faculty members specializing in Ortho Sports, which basically meant shoulder, elbow, and knee joints. I knew there was a single resident in the fourth year assigned to the service, as well as a fellow, but I would be particularly assigned to Dr. Carlisle Cullen, who was the newest faculty member.

I would do what Dr. Cullen did, and he would ultimately write my evaluation when the rotation ended on February 15. I would also work closely with the resident who would probably have significant input on my grade, too, since I would have to take call with that person. We would either go to clinic or the OR after conference each morning. I would round on any patients belonging to Dr. Cullen admitted to the hospital prior to the morning conference. That wouldn't happen often since most of our surgeries were outpatient procedures.

I hated the first day of a new rotation. I didn't like not knowing my routine or exactly where to go. First days reminded me of my own insignificance. The department had run before I arrived and would continue to do so when I moved on to something else.

I arrived about ten minutes early but the conference room was already pretty full. The room was dominated by a large, boardroom-style table in the center with a large flat screen on the far wall. Faculty and senior residents would sit at the table while junior residents and medical students would sit in chairs that lined the wall of the room. I recognized a fourth year medical student sitting in the back and went to sit next to him.

"Hey, Bella," he greeted me. "Is this your first Ortho elective?" I nodded.

"Yep. How are you, Tyler?" I confirmed. "I guess you're getting ready for the Match and going on interviews now." Medical students applied for residency in the fall of the fourth year and interviewed mostly in December and January. The National Residency Match Program used a complicated computer formula to match students and programs based on the preferences of both. Match Day, when the results were announced, was in mid March, and usually the best or worst day of a medical student's career.

"I went on four in December, and I've got another five interviews this month," he told me. I pursed my lips, impressed.

"Nine interviews is great," I told him. "It sounds like you don't have to worry about not matching." He crossed his finger and shook them in front of us.

"Hopefully, it does look that way," he agreed. "Which attending are you shadowing this month?" I made a small face.

"Dr. Cullen," I admitted. "I was hoping for someone more well known. I'd really like to stay at Baylor." Tyler shrugged.

"He seems nice, a little quiet, but from what I can tell, he's respected." I shrugged back at him noncommittally. It was a pretty good endorsement. At least Tyler hadn't said he was a jerk.

"Wait!" Tyler suddenly exclaimed. "You're on Sports," his eyes widened with horror.

"What?" I demanded with alarm. He closed his eyes and shook his head in pity.

"Trey is the resident on Sports now. He's the biggest asshole on the planet," Tyler muttered quietly since the room was starting to fill up to the max, and the chairs near us were being taken. "I heard he's especially bad with chicks." I curled my lip and rolled my eyes.

"Don't worry, Tyler," I growled. "I think I can take care of myself," I told him, but he looked at me worriedly.

"I hope so," he said sincerely. "Let me know if you need help or anything this month." I nodded to show him I accepted his offer, and the chairman, Dr. Volturi, called the conference to order. I followed along as best I could as a few chosen residents presented cases illuminated by CT scans, MRIs, or X-rays displayed on the large screen. I was glad I'd studied so hard because I could actually recognize a few of the injuries they highlighted. The attending physicians took turns grilling the residents who weren't presenting.

Dr. Cullen spoke up a few times, and I took the opportunity to observe him. He looked young, really young, as in not much older than me. I knew he had to be at least early 30's based on timing, but he didn't look it. He had light blond hair and really blue eyes. I decided he was probably handsome and lamented the fact that I was unable to appreciate it truly. Edward had ruined me.

He seemed thoughtful though. His questions were fair and insightful. Tyler was probably right, and he'd be enjoyable to work for. I could tell the older attendings held him in some esteem, so maybe he'd have more clout than I expected during residency selection deliberations.

I also watched the resident, who I identified as Trey. He was a large man, bulky and only a few workouts away from overweight. His scrubs were tied just below his burgeoning belly. I thought he might have played football at some point and let himself go. He also had blonde hair, but it was a darker shade. I couldn't tell for sure but I thought he had dark eyes. His facial expression stood out, along with the fact that he needed a shave. He sneered at those around him and held himself with arrogance and bravado. And he was wearing cowboy boots with his scrubs.

He was not one of the presenters, and, unfortunately, he had all the correct answers when asked. I thought he might have a bit of an adversarial relationship with the faculty because they all seemed somewhat focused on tripping him up. But they couldn't. When the conference ended, he had a very unpleasant but triumphant smile on his face. Tyler gave me a silent and pointed look. Then, he touched two fingers to his temple in a mock salute and disappeared into the crowd of doctors who were now standing and chatting with each other.

I shuffled through the group, noticing that there was only one other woman in the room. She was tiny and Asian and had been one of the resident presenters that morning. I had heard them call her Janeth. None of the faculty was female. I already knew that Orthopedics was a boys' club and was prepared for it. Dr. Cullen was talking quietly with Dr. Volturi, and I approached his elbow and tapped it lightly. He turned toward me expectantly.

"Hi, Dr. Cullen, I'm Bella Swan. I'm the medical student assigned to you this rotation," I introduced myself tentatively. Dr. Volturi smiled at me with some level of recognition, which made me feel a lot better. I'd met with him a few months ago when I'd decided to pursue Orthopedics as my specialty. I was glad he seemed to remember me. Dr. Volturi gave Dr. Cullen a pat on the back and moved off.

"Hi, Bella," Dr. Cullen greeted me but didn't seem sure what to say next. He looked me over and finally spoke again. "Um, did you get a packet from Gianna?" He was referring to the department secretary. I'd had the packet since December, but I didn't have a call schedule yet, so I mentioned that. Dr. Cullen looked a bit chagrinned.

"Yes, well, you'll be taking call with Trey, the resident on our service," he told me hesitantly. I nodded with a frown. I'd figured that, but wasn't happy to have it confirmed after seeing the man in question in action that morning. Dr. Cullen studied me appraisingly. Then, he beckoned for me to follow him.

"We're in the OR this morning," he told me as we walked, headed for the outpatient operating suites in St. Luke's Medical Towers. "You can change into scrubs in the locker room. After today, unless we are seeing patients in the Baylor clinic, you can feel free to wear scrubs." He glanced over at me. "What you're wearing today is appropriate for the Baylor clinic," he said. He told me to change and meet him in OR #15 for the first case and disappeared into the men's locker room.

I entered the women's locker room and changed as quickly as possible. I donned a surgical cap, boot-sized shoe covers to keep the water from the arthroscope off my legs, and a mask. Then, I headed through to the sterile part of the operating rooms. I found OR#15 easily since I'd had other surgical rotations before this one. I pushed open the door and entered.

Dr. Cullen wasn't there yet, but I recognized Trey immediately. He was typing on a computer in the corner, obviously filling in pre-op information in the electronic medical record. The patient was already in the room on a gurney next to the anesthesia equipment. The anesthesiologist and his resident were working on IV sedation and starting a regional block so we could start the case. I'd seen that it was an ACL repair when I checked the board in front of the main nurses' station.

Trey looked up when I entered the room. His eyes narrowed behind the plastic splashguard he was wearing, and honed in on me instantly. I couldn't see his mouth but I could picture it curving up into a cruel smile. He got up from the stool slowly and rubbed his hands together in feigned glee.

"Oh boy, my lucky day, what do we have here?" he crowed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the anesthesia resident cast me a concerned glance.

"I'm Bella Swan, MS3," I told him referring to my status a third year medical student. I approached him and put my right hand out for him to shake it. He just stared at it.

"Let's get this straight," he finally said to me. "We're not here to be friends. I'm going to teach you what you need to know," he said ominously. "And I decide what you need to know," he added. And with that, he tossed something in the air toward me. To my great relief, I caught it easily. A surgical tech that I hadn't noticed was setting up the back table nearby and let out a sigh of relief. Apparently, everyone was accustomed to Trey's reign of terror.

I glanced at the object in my hand. It was a plastic razor, the type we used to shave the body as part of sterile surgical prep. I looked back up at Trey, and he grinned evilly.

"It's a razor," he said unnecessarily. "You can shave the knee," he offered with pretend generosity. "That may be the only thing you can do right. I assume you shave your own legs." I stared at him in shock with my mouth slightly open. I thought, did he really just say that? The anesthesia resident let out an almost imperceptible gasp out of my line of sight. Trey held my gaze, daring me to contradict him.

Finally, I started moving again. I said nothing to him and moved toward the patient. I proceeded to shave the surgical area carefully, and the circulating nurse approached with the prep kit. She started to don sterile gloves but I shook my head at her.

"I've got it," I told her, and she nodded with sympathy in her eyes. Trey just laughed meanly and left the room to scrub at the sinks. The surgical tech flipped him off behind his back as he exited the swinging door. But no one said anything. Dr. Cullen entered the room then. He went to the computer and signed off in the required spots then crossed the room to inspect the quality of prep. He nodded in acceptance as I painted the area bright orange with iodine soap.

"I'm going to have you just sit back and watch this one on the screen, Bella," he told me in a soft voice. He seemed shy. "This is Trey's case, so I'll be assisting and supervising him. Maybe you can scrub on the next one, and I'll let you work the scope a little. Does that sound OK?" he asked anxiously. I was surprised he was so concerned about what I thought. I just nodded. He left the room for the scrub sink, and the circulating nurse pointed out a good stool for me to use where I could see the screen where the scope video feed would be displayed.

The two surgeons re-entered the room, and things got started. Trey was facile with working the scope, surgical instruments, and moving his eyes back and forth from the video screen to the small openings that had been made in the knee joint. I was pretty impressed with his ability considering he still had another year of residency. Dr. Cullen was pretty quiet, so he must have approved of what he saw.

After about ten minutes, Trey started pimping me. He shouted out random questions about anatomy, surgical indications, and non-operative treatments. I was very proud of myself for getting all his questions right, but it seemed like it was pissing him off. Finally, he lost what little professionalism he had left.

"So, you think you're going to match in Ortho, huh, Swan?" he asked, eyes on the screen. The guy could really multi-task.

"I hope so," I replied simply and cautiously.

"Well, your knowledge is way ahead of your peers right now," Dr. Cullen told me, and I couldn't suppress a tiny smile of satisfaction. "You're on the right track, I'd say." Trey rudely interrupted him to keep harassing me.

"So, you know there are only two types of women that go into Ortho, right?" he said, obviously wanting me to ask him for clarification. I stayed silent, unsure what to say.

"Trey," Dr. Cullen said quietly, the warning clear in his voice.

"Shut up, Carlisle," Trey spat with vehemence. I was shocked to hear him address the attending by his first name, but Dr. Cullen didn't reprimand him. "She needs to hear this." He stilled the instruments in his hand and turned away from the screen to look at me. Water from the stationary scope poured onto the floor, the noise loud in the otherwise silent room.

"Two types of women," he repeated. "The butch ones and the bitches. Which one are you?" Then he cackled at his own wit. I saw the anesthesia resident put his hand to his mask in obvious disbelief, but he stayed quiet behind the monitors. Dr. Cullen said nothing but looked angrily down at the patient. Trey resumed operating. I was fuming, and I stood up from the stool.

"Which one do you think?" I snapped and cocked an eyebrow at him with my hands on my hips. I didn't care what kind of influence he had in the department. I wasn't going to stand for that treatment. Trey didn't answer, and I could tell my response was not what he expected. Probably he'd hoped for some tears. Dr. Cullen looked up directly at me, and I could see the smile in his eyes even though his mouth was covered. The anesthesia resident gave me a surreptitious thumbs-up.

Trey ignored me for the rest of the case, and Dr. Cullen asked me some questions, but nothing too hard. Then, he asked some basic getting-to-know-you things. I was only a little evasive. I didn't want him to find out that the famous Dr. Dwyer was my step-dad. That knowledge usually made things more complicated for me. Dr. Cullen left the room when the repair was essentially done, leaving Trey to close the wounds and finish up. I placed the dressing without having to be asked.

When the patient rolled towards Recovery, I started to follow, but Trey grabbed me by the elbow and turned me to face him. I tried to jerk away, but he held on almost painfully.

"You better not give me any trouble this month," he said threateningly. "We're going to be taking call together, and I'm the one who has to check you off on the required skills. Just remember that." Then he dropped my arm and breezed past me to Recovery. I stared after him open-mouthed.

I debated what to do. I should probably report him for his behavior, but even though everyone knew he was a jerk, I'd still be the girl who complained. I didn't want the department to have that impression of me, since I wanted to stay around for residency. I decided I'd just have to put up with him.

Dr. Cullen cornered me in the pre-op area where I was helping Trey get the next patient ready to go back. He crooked his finger and pulled me around the corner to a quiet area.

"I'm sorry about Trey," he apologized. "I don't seem to have any control over him." He shrugged and sighed. He looked ashamed. I didn't know what to say to him. I wanted to ask why he allowed Trey to call him by his first name. I wanted to ask why he didn't report Trey's behavior to the chairman. Most of all, I wanted to ask him why he was whispering to me in a quiet corner of pre-op instead of confronting Trey on my behalf.

But, I just studied him quietly and said nothing. None of those questions were ones you asked your attending. I didn't know him well enough to know how he'd react. He seemed shy and approachable, but he could turn on me in a second. I just looked him and nodded. He glanced away. He couldn't hold eye contact with me. So far, my opinion of him was favorable, but this interaction really disappointed me. I pursed my lips and stepped away from him.

"Bella, you really impressed me today. I promise I will try to find a way to be an advocate for you," he said softly. I smiled slightly and nodded again. I turned away from him and returned to Trey's side, silently assisting him in readying the patient.

And so they day went. Trey terrorized the OR and staff while delivering immaculate surgical care. I really despised him by the time the last case ended. The three of us wished the final patient well in Recovery. Dr. Cullen shook his wife's hand and patted her back. We turned to head back to the Department's offices, but Trey stalked off without a word once we headed around the corner out of sight. Dr. Cullen watched him go with an inscrutable expression.

"Good job today, Bella," he told me again as we made our way to his office. Once inside he gave me a list of articles that he recommended I look up online to bolster my current knowledge. I thanked him and promised to meet him at Conference the next morning prior to a day in clinic. He stared at me like he wanted to say more but just nodded as I left.

I stopped by Beck's Prime for a cheeseburger on the way home, really needing a good treat. Edward had baseball practice, and I didn't expect him until late. I'd told him we needed to start spending nights apart since I had to get up so early, but he insisted that we could be apart on my call nights and anything else wasn't necessary.

But I was so looking forward to seeing him. My day had not turned out as expected, and I realized that all I wanted was his comfort and touch. He'd truly won me over in the last few weeks, I realized wryly. My mission to stay unaffected and not get attached was not working out well. But I felt strangely optimistic despite my dreadful day. Maybe it could work out somehow in the end just like he said.

But by the time I needed to go to bed, he still wasn't back to the apartment. I had to get up at 6 AM again the next day, and I had learned that Wednesday night was my call night, and I probably wouldn't sleep. So at nine o'clock, I took a shower and climbed in bed. I dozed but didn't fall asleep. A little after ten, I heard him enter the apartment.

He shuffled through the dark, obviously trying to be quiet. He crept into the bathroom and didn't turn on the light until the door was closed. I heard the shower turn on. A few minutes later, he came in the bedroom and slid under the covers next to me. He dragged me back into spoon position, and I could tell he was naked, just like me. I rolled toward him and brushed against his obvious erection. I reached down to run my thumb over the tip. He groaned quietly.

"Bella, we don't have to," he complained with little conviction. I then gripped his length and pumped a few times to show him what I thought about his protestations. He moaned but didn't try and stop me.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd think we do," I replied archly. It didn't take him long to get into the same frame of mind as me. His mouth covered mine, and he shifted to hover over me. In a few frantic movements, he was inside me. We rocked together until we both reached release. Afterwards, we cuddled together, touching and teasing.

"How was your day?" I asked him. "Do you like your classes so far?"

"Yeah, they're not bad," he told me noncommittally. "Practice could have gone better, though," he said.

"Why? What happened?" I asked him. I could feel him shrug where he lay.

"I probably should have worked out more over break," he admitted. "Coach laid into me. I'm not where I should be yet." In that moment, my secret crush on Coach Graham ended, and I just wanted to punch him in the face.

"Edward, I'm sure you're right on track," I argued. He kissed my cheek but didn't agree.

"I love you, Bella, but you're biased," he made the statement casually, and I stiffened. I hoped he didn't notice.

"Anyway, I know you'll work hard," I said lamely. He ran his fingers through my hair and didn't answer.

"How was your day?" he finally asked me. I opened my mouth to tell him what an asshole Trey had been, but I swallowed it. He was obviously upset and didn't need me to add to it.

"Dr. Cullen seems nice. He's really young, but I think I impressed him," I admitted. Edward nestled his face in my breasts. I ran my fingers through his hair, and he sighed contentedly.

"Do I need to be worried?" he muttered. I giggled.

"No, he hasn't got your charisma," I joked, but it was also the truth. Edward let out a puff of laughter against my chest. He lifted his head and kissed me deeply. Then, he pulled me close and settled down obviously tired and ready to sleep. I didn't want to delay his sleep. I didn't want to put all my negativity on him either.

"We'll talk tomorrow," I whispered as we both drifted off.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

A/N: Sadly, Trey is real. As you may know, I like to use canon characters in my stories and don't really make up original characters (well, most of their actions are original, but their names are canon). This character is based on an actual senior resident I had as a medical student at Baylor, who was named Trey. Some of the things he says to Bella here and in future chapters were actually said to me.

I think I've tied Trey into a canon character in a rather clever way. Wait 'til next chapter to see how…

Many readers have wondered how many more chapters until we get back to present day. There will be two more chapters set in 2008 before we return to 2014. Hang in there!

Thanks for continuing to read and review! I got a lot more last chapter after my blatant begging . -EG


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Ha, ha! I loved kiiiren's review that simply read #fucktrey. We'll probably need to hang on to that sentiment for one more chapter after this one. Then, no more Trey…

Just to clarify, in the South, men often name their sons after themselves. I think this is common outside the South, too, but down here (even though I'm not currently there—DC is not the South, y'all, no matter what you are told) we come up with nicknames for these kids to distinguish them from their forebears. So it's not uncommon to meet people called Junior. Guys who are named Trey or Trip are almost always Something Or Other the III. I even knew one guy called Cinco. Yep, he was Something Or Other the V. So, we go from there. No, I don't know if the real Trey was a III or not, but I'm using artistic license to tie in Twilight.

**Chapter 9**

_January 8-20, 2008_

The rest of the week went on like that. Trey terrorized the clinic and OR staff, all the while belittling his attending, Dr. Cullen, and me. And no one said a word to try and stop him. He seemed to take great pleasure in making me feel useless and took every opportunity to make little digs about me being a weak, little girl. I was learning a lot from Dr. Cullen, but growing more and more disappointed in his lack of assertiveness in dealing with Trey. I couldn't understand why he didn't drop the hammer.

Trey and I took call together on Wednesday night, covering Ben Taub General Hospital for emergency consultations. There was a list of general emergency orthopedic skills I was supposed to learn on this rotation regardless of the subspecialty I shadowed during the day. As Trey had pointed out on the first day, he was in charge of checking me off on these, and if I didn't get them all, I would fail the rotation. And have no hope of ever matching in Orthopedic Surgery, especially at Baylor.

Thankfully, we were truly busy on Wednesday night. Trey actually needed my help to juggle all the consults from the ER, and he even had to call in the attending to take a patient with a tibia shattered by gunshot to the OR for emergency stabilization. We didn't sleep at all, so the call room was not an issue, although Trey had already warned me that he had no intentions of allowing me to share the room with him. I wasn't sure what he expected me to do during down time, if I weren't going to be catching some ZZZ's in one of the four bunk beds in the room dedicated to Orthopedics. I guess I'd just sit in the cafeteria.

Edward was distracted all week with baseball practice. He arrived at my apartment late in the evening each night, and we didn't talk much to be perfectly honest. His physical touch soothed me in a way that I was coming to crave and require. His age and future plans continued to weigh upon me, but I forcibly ignored what was coming. I just wanted him, and I felt satisfied that my demonstrations of love seemed to help him, too. Even though we weren't unloading on each other, we grew closer and closer by the day.

Sadly, the first weekend of my rotation, I was given Saturday off, but Edward's biggest day of baseball practice was that day, and he was given Sunday off. I was scheduled to be on call all day and night on Sunday. Alice called me halfway through the week, and I agreed to crawl the Galleria with her on Saturday afternoon. I picked her up around midday, and we drove over there to enjoy lunch at La Madeleine, while watching the ice skaters in the indoor rink that formed the hub of the giant shopping center as they tried to pretend that winter actually existed in this sunny, Texas city.

We started off slowly, peering into many of the stores we passed, almost as set on getting good exercise in air conditioning as truly meaning to purchase anything. We chatted superficially, and it felt good to spend time with her. She finally broached the heavy topics while we were making our obligatory turn of Saks Fifth Avenue. I couldn't afford anything in this store unless my mom bought it for me, and in that case she'd be doing the choosing. But it was fun to browse.

"So, Jasper's not happy," she began. I glanced at her with concern. I'd really liked him, but I'd cheerfully kick his ass if he were going to dump Alice, whether he was a friend of Edward's or not.

"Is it over?" I asked cautiously. She looked stunned for a minute and then burst out laughing.

"No, of course not!" she continued to chuckle as she ran a hand over an impossibly tight Herve Leger dress. Alice had told me that this style had been all the rage last season. It would look fabulous on her, but Alice didn't like to try on things she couldn't buy. "Jasper doesn't think he wants to enter the business world per se," she explained.

"Well, what does he want to do?" I asked a little confused.

"He'd like to go back to physical therapy school when he finishes at UH this summer. Then, he wants to open up his own physical therapy practice. He's really enjoyed working with Edward. I don't think he really left the baseball and sports world behind," she told me.

"With a business background, he'd probably be able to establish a good niche here in the Texas Medical Center," I mused. Alice nodded. We finished our circuit of Saks and returned to the main corridor of the mall.

"That's what he's hoping," she agreed. "Once he's done with school, we're going to get married. When the business is off the ground, I'm going to quit Teach for America and work with him." She said it matter-of-factly, but I was glad she hadn't brought it up while we were eating. I swallowed weird and start coughing uncontrollably as it was.

"What?' I croaked out between gasps. She glanced sideways and smiled coyly at me without a trace of nervousness.

"Yeah. I know it's only been a month, but we both know it's right. It will happen, Bella," she assured me. I was quiet for a minute, trying to decide what the best response would be. It wasn't that I disagreed with her decision. I just had a hard time wrapping my head around such a big step. For a split second, I thought about marrying Edward, but I enjoyed the fleeting fantasy a bit too much. I crashed back to Earth quickly as I realized how impossible something like that was for us, not just now but for many years to come.

"I don't doubt it, Alice," I finally settled on. "Jasper is a great guy. He'd be great as a physical therapist, I think."

"Did you know his brother Peter plays for UT?" she prattled, oblivious to the dark turn my thoughts had taken. I nodded and tried to smile.

"Yes, I think Edward mentioned that," I murmured.

"Well, anyway, he's not likely to get drafted, so he's probably going to get his PT degree, too. They can found the business together," she told me cheerfully. We continued our tour of the Galleria, and she continued to delineate Jasper's grand plans. I bought a top at Forever 21, masochistically enjoying the irony. Finally, I guess she noticed I was only half-heartedly involved.

"What's wrong with you? You're quiet," she observed after a while. I shrugged.

"Nothing much. My resident is an asshole. I'm dreading taking call with him tomorrow," I told her, and it wasn't a lie. I tried to put my reservations out of my head and just enjoy the day. In the end, I think I succeeded pretty well.

Edward was back at my apartment already when I arrived. He was sitting in an undershirt and boxer briefs on my couch watching a basketball game. He was sipping a half empty Shiner when I unlocked the door. He set it aside with a beaming smile when he saw me.

"I'm so glad to see you," he breathed and set aside the bottle. "C'mere." He gestured for me to sit on his lap. I giggled and settled there as he tickled my cheek with his day old stubble. I dropped my purse and the shopping bag on the floor as the kiss got more heated. Lips, teeth, and tongue were now involved. His deft fingers slid underneath the hem of my little knit dress, and I shrugged off my denim jacket.

"Mmmm, I miss having you to myself," he muttered into my neck, nuzzling it with his nose when we both required breaths.

"I miss you, too, Edward," I admitted, and he lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bedroom. Our clothes were shed quickly, and he was inside me with a groan before I knew it. I clutched his body to me greedily, wanting contact with as much of his skin as possible. But he rolled onto his back, bringing me on top of him.

"I'm tired today," he said cheekily. "Why don't you do the work for awhile?" And he raised one hand to tease my left nipple, while the other dipped between my legs, making me impossibly wetter as my limbs tingled with desire and pleasure. I threw my head back and rode him with abandon until I could feel my climax building. Then, I looked back down at his face, running my fingers along his strong, handsome jaw.

"God, I love you, Bella," he ground out and tensed as he spilled into me. My orgasm tore through me at the same time, and I collapsed on top of him, gasping for breath. He'd said it a few times since New Year's, but I hadn't said it back yet. He didn't seem worried or concerned with my lack of a declaration. I wanted to say it back to him, but for some reason, I just couldn't.

Afterwards, we sat by the pool with Shiners until the sun set. Then, we ordered Chinese take-out. We started to watch a movie but ended up in bed for another round. He really did make me insatiable. Unfortunately, I had to go to bed early since I'd be on call for 24 hours starting at 8 am the next morning. Sundays weren't as bad as Saturdays, but I knew it'd be busy.

Edward declared his intention to hang out with Jasper the next day, and I told him what Alice had told me about physical therapy school. Edward said Jasper had already talked to him about it a little bit. We both decided it was great idea and wished Jasper well.

"Maybe someday, you'll work with Jasper, too," Edward said while stroking my hair as I drifted off to sleep. And I allowed myself that fantasy for those few short minutes, Alice, Jasper, Edward, and I as a foursome far into the future.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

We were busy immediately on Sunday morning, inheriting several train wrecks from the night before. Trey and the attending of the day were headed back to the OR, and I could tell he was getting fed up with me. He'd tried valiantly all week to get a reaction out of me, but I wouldn't bite. Unfortunately, I think he'd decided it was his mission to get me to cry before the end of the rotation. I avoided specific talk about him when I was with Edward because I knew he wouldn't react well.

"You're annoying the shit out of me, Bella," Trey grumbled while I fumbled with writing admission orders for a guy with osteomyelitis. "Get out of my hair and hang out with the Cast Room resident for a while, will ya?" That sounded like a good plan to me. Maybe I could get some actual casting experience and possibly get a check off on that skill despite Trey.

I made my way down to the small room housed in the back of the larger ER. Several plastic chairs were arranged haphazardly outside the entrance, and they were overflowing with miserable-looking people whose weekends had taken an unpleasant and unexpected turn.

A guy in a torn bicycle jersey and pants rested his bandage wrapped foot on the empty chair next to him. A Hispanic man with an enormous mustache cradled a crying little girl in a frilly pink church dress on his lap, her small, dark arm lashed to her body with a sling. The hallway smelled horrendous, and I hurried past the makeshift waiting room into the Cast Room.

The Cast Room was cluttered with casting equipment and a large C-arm fluoroscope for instant X-ray ability. There were three Ortho techs working, their heads bent over various projects. The resident was crouched next to the C-arm, holding the hand of an obviously intoxicated man over the imaging platform. He studied the imaging screen while moving the man's thumb back and forth. The guy shouted obscenities at him. It was a chaotic scene, and just being there made me feel excited. I approached the resident and stood next to him, waiting for him to acknowledge me when he had a moment.

"Hey, Baby," the drunk slurred when he saw me walk up. He smelled like stale booze and probably urine, and I wrinkled my nose in distaste without answering him. The resident glanced up at me, then pulled a little harder than necessary on the man's thumb. He gave me a wink before bending his head back down.

"Ooowwww!" cried the drunk, but he didn't speak to me again. I stifled a laugh. The resident stood up.

"Thumb spica!" he called out, pointing his index finger into the air above the man he'd just examined. A middle-aged African-American lady with flaming red hair and purple scrubs acknowledged him with a nod of her head as she finished up with the current patient she was helping. The resident swiped his hands together like he was brushing off dirt and turned to address me. He had smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. I thought it would be fun to work with him.

"I'm Jake," he introduced himself. "What's your name Student Doctor?" He was tall and Hispanic with thick, dark hair and gleaming white teeth. He wore his scrubs a bit small, and the arm cuffs were tight around his biceps. He was a little too groomed, and I just knew he took longer in the bathroom in the morning than I did. I couldn't place him, but he looked really familiar. The feeling nagged, but I just figured I'd seen him in the morning conferences.

"I'm Bella. Trey kicked me out of the OR and sent me down here," I told him hesitantly. I didn't want to be a bother, but I hoped he would let me stay.

"Man, that guy's such an asshole," he exclaimed forcefully. He motioned for me to follow him over to the chart rack, so I figured I was accepted. "If he weren't such a hot commodity, I'm pretty sure Dr. Volturi would fire him." I raised my eyebrows.

"What do you mean, hot commodity?" I asked. Jake pulled the next chart and settled into a rolling chair placed in front of a computer, which had been crammed onto the limited counter space. He pulled up an X-ray film and started inspecting it.

"Well, let's see how to describe Dr. James Hunter, III, AKA Trey? He has a Master's in Biomedical Engineering from MIT. He went there after he graduated top of his class from Harvard. He made a perfect score on his MCAT and then went back to Harvard for medical school. That's all hearsay, but I'm sure you've seen how he never gets an answer wrong in conference, not to mention how good his hands are," Jake told me with narrowed eyes, glancing at me briefly before returning his attention to the screen in front of him.

"Yeah, I've noticed," I admitted leaning over the counter to see what he was looking at. It appeared to be a greenstick fracture of the humerus, probably the little girl I'd seen outside. "I can't believe how he treats Dr. Cullen, though. You'd think they would try and put a stop to that." Jake huffed out a sarcastic laugh. Then, he pointed at the screen.

"Greenstick fracture of the humerus," I said, and he smiled at me with satisfaction.

"Cullen needs to grow a pair," he declared. I felt disloyal, but I couldn't help but nod in agreement. "Trey calls him by his first name since he's older than Dr. Cullen. Those two years of grad school, remember? He says he won't address anyone younger than him with a title of respect." I gasped in astonishment.

"Surely, Dr. Volturi doesn't accept that?" I asked. Jake just laughed again.

"Oh, Trey doesn't do it in front of any of the other faculty members. And Cullen's never reported him. Trey's going to end up with some high-powered faculty position and make our department look good when he graduates. It's all politics. Are you sure you want in on this game?" Jake explained. This news didn't make my disappointment in Dr. Cullen lessen, but it did make me feel very sorry for him. He was bearing this treatment for the good of the department.

"Don't worry. You'll be fine," Jake reassured me when he saw my expression. "Let's go examine our little lady, shall we?" And he called out the name on the chart, and the man I'd seen before carried the little girl into the room.

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Jake was a great teacher, and I really enjoyed working with him. We continued to gossip about the department as we made our way through the sea of patients waiting. I filled him in on all the dastardly things Trey had said and done to me, and he was appropriately appalled.

"Are you thinking of reporting him?" he asked. I shook my head reluctantly.

"I'd support you if you did," he declared. I just shook my head again, and he dropped it, obviously easily grasping my hesitation in doing so.

"You seem really familiar," I remarked at one point. "Have we met before?" He smirked at me.

"That's a great line, but I've got a girlfriend," he quipped. I smacked his arm.

"You dork, I'm serious. That's not what I meant. And I have a boyfriend," I responded. A thrill went through me at the statement. I'd never called Edward my boyfriend before, but I guessed that was now the correct term. Jake shook with suppressed laughter.

"I'm kidding," he finally said. "I don't know. You didn't go to Rice did you?" I nodded enthusiastically. That must have been it.

"Yes, I did, as a matter of fact," I told him. "I was at Brown. What about you?"

"Baker," he told me. "Can you believe my brother's at Martel?" He shook his head at his poor brother's misfortune. Warning bells went off.

"Your brother's at Rice now?" I asked for clarification. He smiled and nodded.

"Yep, and he's on the baseball team. Luckily, I got the brains and the looks in the family. I'll let him have the brawn," he waved his hand grandly. I looked at Jake closely and realized why he looked so familiar. His younger brother was his spitting image: Sam, Edward's roommate.

I was racking my brain for a way to change the subject. I wasn't ashamed of my relationship with Edward exactly, but I didn't want it to interfere with my standing as an individual within the department. I wanted my reputation to be of my own making, based solely on my accomplishments, not my association with a local sports star. Plus, I doubted I'd work with Jake again. Shockingly, I was saved by Trey barging into the room.

"What the fuck, Bella, I thought you were supposed to be helping me," he bellowed loudly even though there were several children within hearing distance. Then, he turned and stalked out of the room. I rolled my eyes at Jake and quickly followed him.

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My routine with Edward continued. I worried a little about the fact that we were practically living together, but I enjoyed his company too much to say anything about it. At least, he stayed at his house and did stuff with his friends when I was on call overnight. But because I spent all my free time with him, I barely saw Alice anymore. I spoke to her on the phone a few times a week, but Edward ran into her more than I did.

Baseball practice was getting more intense as the season opener approached. It was only natural that the guys would want to let off some steam. This became a problem for me over MLK weekend. The team had practice daily over the long weekend, but the holiday Monday one would be abbreviated. As luck would have it, I was given both Sunday and Monday off over the weekend, too. It was rare to have two days off in a row on a surgical rotation.

The baseball team decided to throw a party on Sunday night, and Edward's house was chosen as the location since Cindy Brandon, and her crowd, were once again agreeable to co-hosting. Edward wanted us to go, and I was very against attending. He radiated displeasure when I told him to go on without me.

"Bella, how is this relationship going to work if you refuse to get to know my friends?" he asked with frustration. "I've taken the time to get to know Alice."

"Edward, we've talked about the underage drinking thing," I pleaded. "And I don't refuse to get to know them. I just don't think a kegger is the right venue. Plus, I don't have a lot in common with them." I avoided mentioning our age difference again because that really got him going. He frowned at me.

"But you have a lot in common with me, right?" he asked. I could hear the vulnerability in his voice, and it made my heart ache. I didn't answer because I didn't know what to say. Finally, I capitulated slightly.

"I can stop by early, but I've got to be gone by the time it starts to get rowdy. No later than 11," I said with what I hoped he'd see as compromise.

"Whatever, Bella," he huffed, and we went to bed fully dressed lying next to each other but not touching. I wondered if this were the beginning of the end, I'd come to dread.

But, I was awakened several hours later by his desperate kisses. He peeled our clothes away, and I knew he was attempting to physically express his feelings for me. And I tried my best to do the same thing. Further words on the subject would only hurt us.

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Edward and I both slept in a little on Sunday morning. I meant to try and get to church, but it felt too good to lounge in bed with my many overnights the last few weeks. Edward had to be at practice by noon, and he left the apartment a couple of hours early to get some work for school done, too. I agreed to meet him at his house around 6 with take-out from Chuy's.

I went over to Alice's place and sat with her by her building's rooftop pool. It was too cold for a bathing suit, but I was comfortable in a sweatshirt and cut off scrub pants. Alice scoffed at my lack of fashion sense. We alternated reading magazines and just chatting

I was disappointed to learn that she and Jasper wouldn't be at the party, and I was even more disappointed to hear that Cindy and Al had broken up. I guess he'd gotten tired of her petulance. So I'd be on my own with Edward's roommates. Surprisingly, Alice agreed with my insistence that I leave the party early.

"I never said I didn't think being cautious around underage drinking was a good idea, Bella," she said to me. "I work with kids for God's sake. I merely thought you were being close-minded about Edward. Thank goodness you came around." She smiled at me from behind her giant sunglasses. I nodded uneasily in agreement with her.

I went home and showered and changed, somewhat offended when Alice implied I might have been planning on wearing the makeshift shorts to the party. In jeans, a short-sleeved cashmere T-shirt, and ballet flats, I picked up the food, Chuy's Special for both of us. Edward usually went with carnitas, but the combination of blue corn with the pulled chicken at Chuy's was hard to beat.

I parked on the curb at the far end of the block, so my car would be out of the way and ready for a quick getaway if I so needed it. Edward met me at the door in jeans and a t-shirt. His beautiful hair was still wet from the shower, and he smelled amazing. I was uncomfortable being here, but I didn't pull back when he leaned into greet me with a kiss. He took the food from me with a smile and ushered me inside.

Sam, Jared, and Paul were in the living room playing video games. They all grunted hellos when we passed through the room on the way into the kitchen. Edward and I dug into our food and chatted superficially, sharing tidbits of our days. Edward was growing more optimistic about the upcoming season with every passing practice. I was so proud of him and couldn't wait to see him play, even though I knew the game would take him away from me. I was pretty sure seeing him on the field would be a ridiculous turn on.

When we threw away our trash, Edward handed me a bottled Shiner, and we joined the guys in the living room. Paul tossed Edward his controller and headed through to the back yard. Edward rolled his eyes at his retreating back.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked. This question earned me chuckles from Jared and Sam. "What?" I asked again, confused.

"Oh, I just threatened him, if he said anything untoward to you," Edward explained darkly. They didn't say any more about it, and Edward and Jared's match got kind of heated. I sipped my beer quietly and just watched. Sam got up and moved over onto the couch next to me. He gave me a friendly smile.

"So, Edward tells me you're a medical student at Baylor," he began, and my heart started to pound a little. Just the person with whom I did not want to have this particular conversation, I thought. But I couldn't lie or be rude to him. He was obviously trying to make me feel more comfortable being here.

"Yep, third year," I confirmed and took another drink. His smile got bigger, probably because he thought he'd found a topic that we'd have in common. I felt guilty because he was making an effort with me for Edward's sake. He was a good friend. And I was a terrible girlfriend.

"My brother is an Orthopedics resident at Baylor. Have you done any of those rotations?" he asked. I managed a forced smile.

"Yes, actually, I'm doing one now," I had to tell him. "I like it quite a bit," I added honestly.

"Wow, that's a coincidence!" he laughed with delight. "His name is Jake Black. I'll have to tell him to look out for you." Thankfully, he didn't ask if I'd already met him, and he was distracted because his girlfriend, Emily, walked into the living room at that moment. I breathed a sight of relief. I moved over so she could sit between on us on the couch.

"Hey, Bella," she said as Sam threw his arm around her and pecked her cheek. I said hello to her, too. We'd met once before briefly. She was also a junior at Rice, and I was pretty sure she'd said she was a computer science major. She was very tall with long, straight dark hair and black-framed glasses. She had on a midriff shirt with her distressed boot-cut jeans and sandals. She complimented my top, and we started to chat about the Galleria and some other stores in Rice Village.

I saw Edward glance up from his game to watch me briefly with what I thought was approval. It gave me a thrill of happiness to think I was pleasing him. And I wasn't so sorry that I was here after that.

I had a couple of Shiners over the next few hours and mostly sat in the living room taking to Sam, Emily, Jared, and his girlfriend Kim. They were all very nice, and we managed to find some things in common to talk about. They were down to earth and fairly serious, not at all the partiers that I had figured the baseball team and their groupies to be. But, this wasn't the whole team, I reminded myself.

Paul remained mostly in the back yard with a couple of other guys who were surrounded by young co-eds who I suspected were the underage attendees I had worried about. The girls were silly and giggled their way through the house when they arrived in tiny denim shirts and skimpy shirts, completely inappropriate for the cooler weather. I noticed they threw wistful glances at Edward as they joined the rowdier group in the back. I scooted closer to him and gripped his bicep every time one of them approached him. Finally, the party got louder, and it got later. I told Edward it was time for me to go. He nodded and led me to the front yard where it was quieter.

"Can you drive?" he asked me. His face was a bit flushed, and I knew he'd had quite a few. I considered and took stock of myself, but I didn't answer quickly enough.

"C'mon, Bella, let's walk for old time's sake," he grabbed my hand and laced our fingers together, tugging me down the front walk.

"No, Edward, I don't' want you to miss the rest of your party," I resisted. He let out a frustrated sigh.

"Hey, I've got practice tomorrow, too, even if it's shorter and later," he told me patiently. "It's best if I go now, too. Plus, there's no way I'd let you drive if you aren't completely sure you're able. And you know I won't let you walk alone," he teased. I didn't argue long because I selfishly wanted him with me. So I let him pull me along. We walked about a block in silence, our hands swinging between us.

"Thanks for making an effort tonight," he said quietly. "It really meant a lot to me to see you try and get to know them." He turned to me with a serious expression, but then let a cheeky grin take over his face. "I think I might be finally winning you over," he added.

"Oh, Edward," I exclaimed as my heart melted at his sincerity. "I'm won over." I stopped walking and pulled his face down toward mine, allowing my fingers to tangle in his lovely, wild hair. My emotions and thoughts regarding him were still a mess, and I had difficulty expressing myself, so I just tried to convey through my kiss how much I felt for him. I think, I hope, he could feel it. Too quickly, he stopped me and pulled away. But I could see the desire in his eyes.

"Let's hurry," he whispered and grabbed my hand again. And I followed him, willingly this time, along the same path we'd traversed together a month ago. And when we arrived at my apartment, he made my hurrying worth my while.

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A/N: First, relax. Jake is only a very peripheral character in this tale.

I'm grateful beyond belief for all the reviews I've been receiving. Most of you are far too kind. I'm used to taking in constructive criticism from previous fics and appreciate that every time. I've been known to make changes in posted chapters based on feedback because I strive for accuracy. Nothing pisses me off more than inaccuracies with military fics (and there are many), and I will often post corrections in a review but always in a respectful way. If I really can't handle what I'm reading, I just stop reading it.

I have never really had to deal with the bitter, borderline hateful and completely unhelpful things that I've heard some people will write before this story. I guess I knew it happened from reading other A/N's but was unpleasantly surprised to find it directed at me. It is especially interesting that the most egregious and unhelpful reviews are posted under the Guest feature. Please, if you have something really negative to say that probably won't help me improve this story, post it under your account, so I can respond. That's only fair. Otherwise, don't be surprised if I delete it.

Most of the upset seems to stem from the "past chapters." There is only one of these left, and then we'll go back to the present. So stick with me if you will. If you're too angry with me for making you sift through the back story, then I understand if you decide to quit following.

EG


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Thanks so much to FicSisters for their kind review on their blog, The International House of Fanfic. I'm beyond flattered to be included with the other fantastic stories listed there.

Well, you knew this was coming. Let's get it over with…

**Chapter 10**

_January 21-February 15, 2008_

Edward and I continued in our idyllic, little routine. We were both extremely busy, but I, at least, treasured our few moments together on the evenings we had. We managed to grab dinner at Star Pizza with Sam and Emily the weekend following the baseball party and enjoyed a few drinks at Kay's, a dive bar, not far away afterwards. The next weekend, Alice dragged Edward, Jasper, and I to the trendy bars downtown. Edward was just as delicious dressed up for a night out clubbing as he was in a tuxedo. And many girls in skimpier dresses with prettier faces than mine noticed. But he was with me.

Trey never let up. In fact, he seemed to redouble his efforts to break me before the looming end of the rotation. Dr. Cullen was undeniably impressed with me. I felt a great deal of pride in that knowledge, although I had earned the praise fair and square due to my hard work. It was nice to see it pay off.

The last Monday of the rotation we were back in the OR. Dr. Cullen was allowing me to hold the scope and maneuver it through a knee joint. Trey was complaining about my clumsiness loudly, while the scrub tech cringed next to us. Thank goodness the patient had requested general anesthesia due to extreme nervousness and wasn't aware of our conversation.

"Carlisle, you're going to get us sued, if you keep letting her do that. You may be at a dead end, but I have a bright future ahead of me in my career," he griped. "Her hands are too small, and she's not strong enough to have the finesse needed."

"Trey, we were all beginners at one time. She's not doing any harm. She's just orienting herself. She doesn't even have an instrument in there. There's no danger, and you know that very well." Dr. Cullen sounded harsher than I'd ever heard him with Trey, and I stopped what I was doing and looked up in surprise.

"Go on, Bella, you're doing fine. When we're done, you can close the wounds again. You've done such a nice job with that so far," he encouraged. Trey exploded. I saw the anesthesiologist wince behind the curtain.

"How dare you speak to me that way, Carlisle?" he shouted. "I'm far more valuable to this department than you are, and you know it. I'm not even sure why they have me working with you; you can't teach me anything." Dr. Cullen blinked slowly, obviously stunned by this new outburst. Trey often implied things, but he'd never come right out with an attack of this nature. But Dr. Cullen didn't say anything yet.

"You're such a pussy," Trey muttered and shook his head. And that did it, for me at least. I handed the surgical instruments back to Dr. Cullen. I looked right at Trey, even though he was looking at Dr. Cullen.

"Dr. Cullen," I said firmly. Dr. Cullen looked at me with a question on his face.

"Yes?" he said when I didn't go on. I shook my head.

"I'm not talking to you, Sir. I'm talking to Trey," I was glad my voice sounded steady because my heart was pounding. I wasn't sure what I was doing. Trey turned his narrowed eyes on me.

"What the fuck are you blabbing about, Swan?" he asked with an ominous undertone.

"It's Dr. Cullen to you, Trey. Since you're a resident, and he's an attending. You shouldn't call him by his first name," I corrected with steely determination. Trey stared at me with his mouth slightly open in disbelief. He took a menacing step forward toward me but stopped when a throat cleared from the direction of the door.

"Sorry, to interrupt," a voice said, and all three of our eyes whipped in that direction. The confrontation had been so tense that none of us had heard anyone enter. I gasped when I recognized Dr. Volturi standing there. I could only see his eyes since he was wearing a sterile mask, but they looked stormy. He'd heard everything. He addressed the entire room.

"I needed to touch base with Dr. Cullen regarding one of our research projects, but it seems more pressing now that I have a word with Dr. Hunter," he said mildly. "Trey, why don't you come with me?" he sounded casual, but I could hear the steel behind his request. Trey shot a murderous look at Dr. Cullen and I but had no choice but to follow Dr. Volturi out of the room. You could have heard a pin drop. No one said a word.

Then, Dr. Cullen was in motion. He removed the scope and instruments from the patient's knee. The scrub tech had the needle driver, suture, and forceps ready for me, and Dr. Cullen nodded that I should proceed as planned. I made quick work of the three puncture wounds (I'd been practicing a lot), and as I cut the knot on the final one, I heard a slapping sound.

I looked up in surprise to see the anesthesiologist, the scrub tech, and the circulating nurse all clapping and looking at me. I looked to Dr. Cullen in confusion, and he had already removed his mask and was smiling broadly. He joined in the clapping. He stepped close to me so our words would be private.

"Thank you, Bella. You just did something I should have done for myself months ago. And if Dr. Volturi hadn't overheard, then it might have gone badly for you. You are very brave, and I owe you one," he said honestly. Then, he smiled a bit mischievously, an expression I hadn't seen on him before. "I think you've earned the right to call me Carlisle. When no one else is around, of course," he added. I giggled and shook the hand he'd extended to me. The clapping trailed off, but I took a mock bow. The anesthesiologist called out.

"Dr. Swan, I hope we'll keep you here at Baylor," he said. I felt a thrill being called that rather than Student Doctor or MS3.

"Me, too," answered Dr. Cullen, I mean Carlisle, giving me a wide smile. And then we all went back to the business of medicine.

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I was pretty amped when I left the OR but came back to reality quickly. I was supposed to work with Trey that night for my last call on the rotation. I still had one skill to complete. I started to panic when I realized it, but my pager went off before I went off the deep end. It was Gianna the department secretary.

"Department of Orthopedic Surgery, this is Gianna speaking," I heard when I returned the call.

"Hi, this is Bella Swan, MS3. I was paged," I said hesitantly.

"Yes, Ms. Swan, I was told to relay a message to you," she replied in her nasal voice. "Tonight instead of following Dr. Hunter on call, you should report to the Cast Room to spend the evening."

"But, I still have to be checked off on shoulder reduction," I argued breathlessly. I heard her hum to herself.

"According to my records, you've already been passed on all your skills," she responded a bit testily.

"Oh," was all I could say in my surprise. "Well, all right, then, I guess," I said lamely.

"Have a nice evening," Gianna told me a bit robotically and hung up. I stared at the PACU phone in shock. Then, I started to smile. And smile and smile and smile.

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As luck would have it, Jake was covering the Cast Room that night. I was glad to see him and knew it would be a good evening, but I still wanted to avoid the connection I had to his younger brother.

"Holy shit, Swan! You are the talk of everything," he exclaimed when he saw me. I grimaced.

"What do you mean?" I asked with trepidation. He threw an arm around my shoulder and shook me, my feet almost rising off the floor.

"You told off Trey! And he's in big trouble now, too," he studied me appraisingly. "How'd you do it, anyway?" he asked.

"You didn't hear the details?" I inquired. He shook his head, eyes still gleaming.

"No, just that you told him off, and Volturi somehow overheard. Trey's on probation now!" he crowed gleefully. I couldn't help but chuckle happily when I heard that news.

"All I said was that he shouldn't call Dr. Cullen by his first name," I said simply with a shrug. "And I guess Dr. Volturi didn't like how Trey responded." Jake grinned at me.

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, Swan, you can just go on home now," he offered. "It's your last call night, anyway. And you've earned it!"

"No," I argued. "I won't take favors. And anyway, I still need to assist on a shoulder reduction." Jake frowned.

"I was told that you were checked off on all your skills," he argued. I shook my head.

"Somehow the record was strangely revised this afternoon," I replied sardonically. He laughed.

"Well, they'd already be reduced by the time they got to me, but I'll keep a listen out for any of that. I'd be proud to have your company for the night, if you're set on staying," he pronounced. I nodded.

"I am set on it," I declared. He put up his palm, and I smacked him a high five.

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I was still riding high from my victory the next evening when I saw Edward again. I wanted desperately to share the experience with him, but I'd kept all my previous interactions with Trey a secret. I thought I'd done it to spare him the worry, but I didn't like what I saw when I stopped to examine my true motivations. So, I kept quiet. The whole thing would soon be behind me for good, and Edward needed to concentrate on the upcoming baseball season.

Edward was focused on Valentine's Day. Even as a V-Day novice, I knew that you couldn't wait until February 12 to plan something big on the 14th, but Edward had been busy. And he was still 21 after all, even if I thought less and less of that fact. He tried to draw opinions out of me but gave up quickly when I wouldn't cooperate. He declared that he would surprise me.

Thursday was my last real day on my rotation. Friday morning would just be the medical student meeting in the conference room and filling out paperwork and surveys. We'd be done by noon, which was convenient because that night was Edward's first game of the season. And as the lead starting pitcher, he'd be the one on the mound when the game began.

As such, Edward would have to be in bed early on Thursday night, which wasn't ideal since I'd be in the VA clinic with Dr. Cullen that day, a clinic that always ran late. It had always been made more unpleasant by Trey's presence, but now I didn't know where he stood. Still, Edward and I wouldn't have much time to play with on the evening of Valentine's Day. I told him we could celebrate later, but he was determined to do something on the actual day.

I didn't see Trey again until Wednesday, the 13th, since I'd left early post-call the day before. He appeared in the Baylor Clinic and behaved in a far more subdued manner than I'd ever witnessed. He not just avoided working with or speaking to me, but avoided eye contact, too. I figured whatever Dr. Volturi had said to him had hit home.

Thursday, the 14th started similarly to the day before. I was working in the VA clinic with Dr. Cullen (Carlisle) and Trey. Trey was quiet again and really didn't speak to either of us. I felt quite vindicated but refrained from smirking openly at him. We worked at a steady pace. It was my last real day on the rotation, and I was pretty sad. The next week I'd be forced to start an OB/Gyn rotation, which was one of the basic requirements, and it would last two whole months! That kind of thing really wasn't my style.

Edward had teased me and woken up early with me to give me a proper send-off. I'd whispered for him to go back to sleep, but at least a part of him was already wide-awake. He'd kissed me deeply, and I'd replied with just as much fervor. His hands had slid almost harshly up my rib cage so that his thumbs could cover my nipples, kneading and teasing. I'd gasped into his mouth with pleasure as his hand dropped lower and then he'd slid into me, driving me to new heights. Once we'd both reached our releases, I had reluctantly left him alone in the warm bed. Edward had grinned up at me proudly from his supine position.

"Now, you're ready for the day," he'd declared smugly. I giggled as I hurried to the bathroom. That's what he did to me; he made me giggle. "I'm going to give you the surprise of your life tonight," he promised as I left him behind to go to work. Thoughts of Edward distracted me from my morose musings about OB/Gyn. I went about the rest of the afternoon with a smile.

We were on our last few patients, well past 4:30 PM when we were supposed to finish, when there was a commotion at the nurse's station. I poked my head out of the charting room to see what was going on. My mouth dropped open in shock. Edward was behind the desk talking to one of the nurses, clutching a dozen red roses in one elbow, and gesticulating wildly with both hands. He didn't look happy. I inserted myself into the situation immediately.

"What are you doing back here?" I demanded. "You can't be back here without an escort," I told him jerking the free elbow in my left hand and pulling him away from the nurses and out of the Ortho clinic into the main lobby of the hospital. We stood facing each other off to the side of the atrium. The nurses had stared after us curiously as we went. Thank goodness that Carlisle and Trey hadn't seen him. I released his elbow and glared at him furiously. I was surprised to see that he was glaring just as furiously back.

"Is this your surprise?" I asked hotly. "Because, I don't think bursting into my place of work and causing a scene is a very nice surprise." He stared at me incredulously, dropping his arm, so the roses were hanging from his fist, flowers toward the floor. Some part of me registered that they were beautiful and didn't like seeing them abused this way.

"Well, Bella," he began with a sarcastic edge to his voice. "I was planning to meet you here in the lobby when you were done, but then I spoke to Sam's brother after practice today." My heart sank. I'd hoped to keep those two separate. I wondered what Jake had said to set him off so. He must have seen the guilt in my expression, and he went on.

"Yeah. There was an open practice today, since it was the last one before the big season opener. Sam's brother made a point to be there. We got to talking. Turns out that he's an Orthopedics resident at Baylor. I mentioned that my girlfriend was doing a rotation as medical student. Can you believe that he recognized your name instantly?" He obviously meant the last question rhetorically. His face was a thundercloud. I'd never seen him so upset. I pursed my lips, not trusting myself to speak and gave an imperceptible shake of my head.

"In fact, it turns out that you are famous in the Orthopedics Department. Did you know that? Apparently, you've been sexually harassed for weeks, and everyone knew about it. But you didn't turn the guy in, and no one did anything to help you. Do you know how it made me feel to tell this guy that I knew nothing about any of this?" He shouted the last question, and I could see his eyes were now red-rimmed. I shook my ahead again afraid to answer. I was fighting tears. Edward threw the flowers to the floor and gripped both of my wrists. He sighed but it wasn't real; it was still part of his angry tirade.

"But I guess you took care of things yourself from what Jake Black tells me. You didn't need me at all for that," he laughed bitterly. Suddenly, the fight went out of him, and he clutched me to him with his large hands wrapped around my upper arms. I could feel my heels leave the floor.

"I came here today to find this Trey Hunter and beat him senseless. But when I saw you, I realized it's not him who deserves my anger. It's you." His green eyes burned like fire into mine. "I've given myself to you. I've told you countless times that I love you, but you've never said it back. Did you think I didn't notice?" He was shouting again, and the tears were now falling freely down his cheeks. I could no longer hold mine back either. I was gulping breaths to keep from sobbing out loud. He released me and stepped back.

"Edward," I tried to croak, but he cut me off.

"Shut up, and let me talk," he said harshly. "I'm sick of you explaining everything away, rationalizing everything. I've shared every bit of my insecurity about the upcoming season, all my worries about my ability to handle the future. I thought you were listening, that you cared."

"Edward," I tried again, a little bit louder, but he didn't acknowledge that I'd spoken.

"This guy was torturing you for weeks. This was a major theme in your life, and you kept it from me. I had to hear about it from Jake Black, who by the way thinks you're pretty wonderful. Maybe you should date him," Edward spat at me. His face changed and hardened. There were no more tears.

"You never saw me as more than a distraction and a good lay. I guess I probably deserved that after the way I acted before I met you," he chuckled darkly. "Not much incentive for me to continue being the "mature" one, now is there? I should have listened to…" he trailed off. "Well, don't worry about it because now I'm done."

And with that, he turned on his heel and stalked out the automatic doors at the front entrance of the lobby. I was sobbing wildly now and unable to call after him. I sank to my knees and gathered the roses to my chest, ignoring the thorns that tore at my clothing. The short white coat of the medical student protected my skin.

"Edward, Edward," I gasped, but I knew he couldn't hear me. He was gone. I looked around the lobby and saw several people stock still, staring at me with pity. I reached deep and forced myself to my feet. I willed the tears to stop and quickly made my way to the nearest garbage can. With great regret, the beautiful flowers went in. Next, I retrieved some tissues from the box that rested on the main information desk in the middle of the atrium and wiped my face as best as I could. People began to move and talk again; my little drama was forgotten as quickly as it was witnessed.

I hastened back to the clinic, but it seemed only minutes had passed since my entire world had crumbled. The nurses eyed me but didn't say anything. Carlisle hadn't noticed that I'd even been gone. Trey did, though.

"Slacking off on your last afternoon, huh, Swan?" he needled me, but with much less gusto than in the past, when I entered the charting room to find him alone. "I guess now that you're the big department star, you think you can get away with that. But don't think I won't be watching you, even when you're off service. I've got a score to settle with you, young lady." He snickered and went back to charting. Carlisle entered the room just then.

"Well, that's the last of them," he declared. "Thank you, Bella Swan, for a great rotation. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot more of you in the future." Trey chuckled evilly behind him. Carlisle turned to glare at him, but Trey continued to type innocently, face blank.

"Thanks, Dr. Cullen," I said but my voice broke. He looked at me closely.

"Are you all right?" he asked with concern. "Your face is red." I wanted to deck him for his tactlessness. I could see now why he wasn't married. "There was a disturbance before. What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," I assured him. He and Trey both looked at me appraisingly. Carlisle finally sighed, nodded, and moved on. Trey spoke again after he left.

"It figures I'd try and make you cry the entire rotation and when you finally did, I had nothing to do with it." And I think that was the closest to admiration, I'd ever hear from Trey Hunter.

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I tried to call Edward every hour on the hour that night. He didn't answer. I went to my morning session at the Department Office and filled out all the paperwork that was required. I sat like a zombie and nodded when Dr. Volturi told me what a great job I'd done and how he looked forward to seeing me on more advanced rotations in the future. I broke down and cried in the restroom twice and again when I got home to my apartment at lunchtime. All of Edward's things were gone. I didn't know what to do about the game, so I called Alice.

"Bella, you've really messed up," she said when she answered without a greeting.

"What should I do?" I asked, breaking down in tears again. I hadn't cried this much since my father died. I heard her sigh with at least some sympathy.

"I don't know," she finally answered. "He asked Jasper to make sure you weren't at the game. He doesn't want to see you." This news stunned me silent and dried the tears. He must really mean it. I'd always wondered why Edward would want to be with me, and now he didn't.

"Okay," I said meekly.

"Maybe he just needs some time," Alice offered. "Try and get in touch with him once he's had a chance to calm down." But I knew I wouldn't do that. In the lobby, Edward had been about to say that he should have listened to his mother. I thought about the conversation I'd overheard between the two of them on New Year's morning. I'd known she was right, too, all the way back then.

I wasn't going to fight for Edward because he was absolutely correct. He would be better off without me.

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A/N: Well, we all knew this was coming, right? Does that take the edge off just a little bit? Next chapter will be back to present day. Lots of new readers. Please leave a review!

I wish that things turned about between the real Trey and me as depicted in this chapter but that's not so. In actuality, our relationship was never this antagonistic, and we actually got along somewhat by the end. He (and the other residents—it wasn't just him involved in that ban) never did let me into the call room, though, even when I was trapped at Ben Taub for 60 straight hours in the aftermath of Tropical Storm Allison.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I'm so thrilled about all the new readers. And I've been getting a lot more reviews. But I have to admit I'm a little nervous about posting this chapter. Most reviewers have expressed excitement about finishing up the 'past' chapters. I hope I can live up to your expectations!

This picks up right where Chapter 1 left off. Several people have told me that they want to re-read the first chapter before moving on, so if you are interested in doing that, now's the time.

Welcome back to the present…

Chapter 11

_February 14-16, 2014_

Somehow I made it through the rest of the day. The clinic was overbooked as usual, so it helped distract me. I did what I had to do, examined patients, counseled them and reassured them, whatever. I was busy, so I didn't think of how my world had been shattered just a few short hours before. I'd thought I'd cobbled together a decent existence, but now I knew it had never been so if spending minutes in Edward's presence again sent me for such a loop. I pictured angry Edward in the lobby of the VA all those years ago. I didn't know what to think.

I took a break after most patients had been seen to cry in the bathroom for a few minutes. Thank God, Tanya was long gone since we ran well over time with the patients. I thought I covered well and dabbed here and there at my face in order to finish the day. I hovered in Carlisle's office doorway when we were done.

"Wow, interesting day," I commented, fishing. Carlisle looked up at me, and his face morphed. Not a good sign.

"Bella, are you all right?" he said in a very concerned voice. His eyes widened in alarm. I shrugged and nodded at the same time, trying to appear like my normal self.

"Are you sick? Your face is red. I've never seen it look like that except…" he trailed off and stared at me. I was unsettled by his scrutiny. I wasn't sure what he was referring to, but I was worried that he was linking my expression today to my expression six years ago, the only other time I'd ever cried at work. And that wouldn't do.

"I'm fine, Carlisle. I'm just tired. I might be coming down with something. It is flu season, after all," I threw out there, anything to keep him from connecting the dots. He smiled and returned to typing on his computer.

"Do you have plans with Siobahn tonight?" I asked tentatively. She was Carlisle's girlfriend, but I wasn't a huge fan. I thought he could do better. It was the perfect question for a distraction.

"Yes," he answered me slowly. "Siobahn has found a vegan restaurant in midtown that she's dying to try. We're going to eat dinner there tonight," he told me with a shrug. I wrinkled my nose.

"Carlisle, you are so not a vegan," I observed with disapproval. He turned his face away from me.

"I know, but she is very passionate about her beliefs. I want to support her," he told me vaguely. I sighed. Siobahn was not meant for Carlisle. That just reminded me that Edward had never been meant for me. I gave up and bid Carlisle a good night.

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I went straight from work to Chuy's. It was already ridiculously crowded when I walked in around 6 pm. I avoided examining the patrons since I didn't want to see all the happy couples. Luckily, the bartender was merciful and handled my order of Creamy Jalapeno dip and chips quickly. I gathered the sinful treat and headed home.

At 31 years old, I was definitely too old to be having this for dinner. I hadn't allowed this kind of indulgence for years, but I'd had a much tighter reign on my feelings until today. That was for sure. I would allow myself an indulgence for once.

I'd also taken a quick stop at Albertson's to pick up a bottle of red wine to go with the dip. One glass turned into one bottle as I remembered the time I shared with Edward. I thought about his reaction to me today. I wondered if he'd known I would be there. But that was giving my hold over him in present day too much credit, I decided. He hadn't dismissed me out right, so he must not hate me uncontrollably. But maybe he was hoping to get revenge. I'd probably played into that fantasy, if that's what he was looking for, I thought. Or worse, maybe I wasn't even a blip on his radar.

My mind drifted against my will to those weeks with Edward. I allowed myself to relive them in detail. My usual white noise played in the background. The news detailed all the horrible things happening in the world today, and although it was a fitting soundtrack to my break down, I turned the TV off.

I considered calling Rosalie, but discarded the idea quickly. She and Emmett would be out celebrating the holiday, and I wasn't selfish enough to ruin their limited time together. I would call her tomorrow morning. Instead I gorged on chips and dip and made a stupid, ironic Facebook post. I did a great job ignoring the heart of the matter until the hour was late, and I realized that I was home alone, the door closed, darkness having fallen.

I had not been able to handle seeing Edward again the way I'd wanted to do. But it had been so sudden. That had to count for something. He'd seemed so calm and collected, and surely he was. It had been years, so of course he was over me. I was a distant memory, a forgettable bump in the road, which he'd recovered from quickly. I sighed as I admitted to myself that Edward had been the mature one back then. I'd been the fool.

This was not news. I'd come to this conclusion years ago. But I'd been waiting to move beyond it, to somehow forgive myself and find someone more suitable. But it hadn't happened. I was still alone and had never been able to seriously consider another person as my other half. Well, now I'd be forced to move on. Edward most certainly had a girlfriend or at least a full life. I'd undoubtedly be confronted with it soon enough. This might be what I needed to get out of my funk. Maybe.

I didn't mean to drink so much. But I woke up cotton-mouthed at 2 am on my couch. I chugged a glass of water and moved back to the bed, once again wondering why I'd never moved out of this apartment, bad memories and all.

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I did sleep in, but it was still kind of early when I finally roused myself. I called Rosalie as soon as I'd washed my face and brushed my teeth. She answered in a frazzled voice.

"Hey, Bella, what's up? No, Emma, don't put that in your mouth!" I waited as I heard wrestling in the background. Rosalie was obviously taking on her young daughter. "Emmett, get in here," she shouted. I waited some more, and Rosalie finally came back to the phone.

Rosalie and I had become friends during our internships. We were both assigned to the General Surgery Red team in July, the first month of the first year of intense training post medical school. She was blunt, and while I constantly worried what others thought of me, she could not have cared less. Your effort, what's in your heart, that's what matters, she had taught me. I could have used her in my life a bit sooner.

We became best friends. She filled a void that had been painfully vacant for some time. Even though we no longer worked together after that first year, since she stayed in general surgery for another two years before moving to plastics, we stayed close. I met Emmett at a dual Ortho conference with UT-Houston as a second year resident. I invited him to hang out with us once, and that's all it took. The rest was history. Those two were my support system ever since.

"What's up?" she asked as if nothing had occurred. "It's not like you to call so early on a Saturday. Emmett said you seemed down yesterday morning." Rosalie, as my best friend, was the only person who knew the whole truth behind my aversion to Valentine's Day. I wasn't sure if she'd told Emmett or not. I really didn't want to know, didn't want to see pity in Emmett's gaze when he looked at me.

"I saw Edward yesterday," I finally muttered. She didn't answer right away. The line stayed so quiet that I thought it might have been disconnected.

"What?" she asked as tentatively in a very unlike Rosalie voice. I laughed humorlessly.

"You heard me," I said.

"_Edward_, Edward?" she questioned idiotically for clarification. I scoffed. She quickly apologized.

"Sorry. I just never expected…how did this happen?" she asked appropriately. I filled her in on the awkward encounter in the clinic. She took a deep breath, and I knew I wouldn't like what she had to say.

"Bella, he's back in Houston. You're done with training. What's to hold you back now? You just told me that he wasn't wearing a ring. Maybe you should feel him out and see if he's up for rekindling things. Lord knows, you haven't really moved on yourself. I still think it was pretty out of line the way he ended things right in the middle of the hospital. Maybe he regrets that with a little time and perspective," she trailed off. It infuriated me. How dare she dangle a happy ending out there for me?

"Rosalie, there is no future with Edward for me!" I shouted at her. "I blew that possibility long ago. He's a successful Major League pitcher now; I doubt he's been waiting on me to get my act together." I shocked myself by starting to cry. I think I shocked Rosalie, too, because she didn't reply right away. I was sure she'd never heard me break down before.

"Okay, Bella, whatever you say. Emmett and I will be here for you whatever you need. Just ask. Please," she pleaded, knowing I wouldn't. So I hung up and curled up on the couch, not knowing what to do next.

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I woke up the next day having dreamed of Edward. It hadn't been specific, only he was with me, kissing my hair, my cheek, my face. I felt loved, and it was hard to wake to the cold reality of my empty apartment. I drifted to the kitchen, to the living room, back to the bedroom. I flipped through channels without really seeing what was playing on television, when, suddenly, I was seized by an idea. I tried to dismiss it, but it wouldn't go away.

I dressed quickly in jeans and a Rice t-shirt before I could change my mind. It seemed fitting to walk, so I did. It was a little over a mile from my apartment to Reckling Park. The season opener had been on Friday, Valentine's Day, but this was the third and final game of the opening series against Stanford. I bought a general admission ticket for $9 and went inside.

I wasn't sure why I was here. I hadn't been to a Rice baseball game since I'd been a student at the school almost ten years ago. If I'd examined things carefully, I guess I would have said that I wanted to feel close to Edward, and this was the best I could do. It was crowded in the stadium. The weather was warm and sunny, a beautiful February weekend afternoon, undoubtedly luring out more spectators.

I took a seat near the back of the general admission area in an almost empty row. A few people glanced my way, likely wondering what I was doing sitting alone. I learned from the giant screen that Rice had won the first two games. I clapped and cheered along with the crowd as our boys made their way up to bat. I'd missed the top of the first inning.

In the top of the second, I watched as Coach Graham gingerly made his way onto the field to protest a call by the third base umpire. The man was undoubtedly elderly at this point but still managed to convey a presence. Seeing him made me think of the way Edward had spoken of him with such awe and respect. I allowed myself to reminisce about the day we'd taken a walk around campus, how we'd talked about Martel and Brown Colleges. I felt like such an idiot for allowing a small fling to affect me the way it had. Something was obviously very wrong with me.

My musings were interrupted in the bottom of the third inning. Stanford had scored several runs in the top of the third, and the crowd was pulling for a come back. Our guys in the dug out were standing at the rail, a few having climbed onto the edge of the field. One of our relievers was warming up in the bullpen.

My eyes drifted to him. I watched him concentrate, pull his glove and the ball into his chest, then lift his right knee into his chest, twisting at the same time to pull the ball behind him in his left hand. His movement was almost too fast to follow when he released the ball to the catcher with an audible thwack, even from where I was sitting. He was a left-handed pitcher, I realized with a clench of my heart.

I was so engrossed in what I was seeing that I didn't notice that I was being watched from the same place I was watching. A man was standing with the pitching coach, and I had caught his attention. This man had hair an unusual shade of red-brown. I gasped when I registered that it was Edward. We sat like that for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes. Then, I surged to my feet, panicking.

He was obviously visiting his alma mater, hanging out with the team, a treat for them. I don't know why it didn't occur to me that he might be here, but now I felt like a fool for not guessing it was a possibility. I wondered if he thought I was there looking for him. I teetered on the edge of the row and finally decided to make my escape. I fled the stadium and his questioning eyes.

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I took a cold, hard look at myself when I arrived back home. Edward and I would be thrown together over the next several weeks. What was I going to do? I realized that I didn't want to avoid him. Seeing him in the clinic and then seeing him at the baseball field had been painful, but it had been an indulgent sort of pain. I hadn't remembered well enough how intoxicating his presence could be.

I'd grown up over the last several years, and I didn't want to deprive myself. I wanted to bask in having him near. I knew he would never feel the same way about me as I still did for him, but why deny myself the miniscule pleasure of having him around. I decided to do what I had to do to make him feel comfortable around me. And maybe over the weeks of physical therapy, I could somehow learn to move on myself. I thought of how delicious he had looked in the Rice baseball jersey and jeans when I'd seen him in the bullpen earlier and knew it wouldn't be easy.

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I met Carlisle in the OR on Monday morning. I performed the rotator cuff repair and ACL reconstruction without much help from him, my preparation paying off. He murmured praise to me when we were done, and I flushed with the feedback. I was correct in my assessment of the subacromial decompression for the Texan's Offensive Coordinator. I didn't touch that guy. At least Carlisle had the decency to look apologetic about it.

We were headed back to the department offices midafternoon, and I was wondering what I was going to do with myself getting off so early that afternoon. Carlisle inhaled and twisted his mouth in such a way that I quickly recognized he was going to task me with something unpleasant. I swear we'd spent so much time together that I could almost read his thoughts.

"Bella, I need you to do something for me," he began hesitantly. I widened my eyes and lifted my brow with a tilt of my head to show I was listening albeit skeptically. "Edward Masen has decided not to use our physical therapy group here at Baylor, although he wants to continue receiving his medical care here. Of course, we offered to send our people over to work with the team trainers at the Astros facility, but he was very specific," Carlisle sounded a little miffed, but is statement caused my stomach to drop into my toes for a different reason. Why had I not considered something like this before now? I listened to the rest of Carlisle's revelation with dread.

"He has some kind of family or professional connection with a physical therapy firm on the campus of Texas Orthopedic Hospital on Main Street, Whitlock and Associates. He wants to work with them and insists to doing most of his therapy at their facility. Have you heard of it?" Carlisle inquired innocently. I took several deep breaths before I could answer him.

Of course, Edward had stayed in touch with Jasper and wanted to work with him. Alice and I had drifted apart after my split from Edward. She had tried to be supportive, but I don't think she could ever get over her disapproval of how I handled things. She could never understand why I'd let him go so easily. I'd been to Alice and Jasper's wedding in September of 2008, somewhat horrified by the speed in which they finalized things. He had just started PT school.

Edward, thankfully, had been unable to attend, still caught up in the whirlwind of being a first round draft pick and moving to Lynchburg, Virginia, the location of the Atlanta Braves Advanced Single A affiliate. I don't know what I would have done if he had been there. I certainly wouldn't have been able to face him that soon without giving myself away.

But after their wedding, Alice and I couldn't seem to find time for each other anymore. To be honest, it was just too painful to see her. I really hadn't spoken to her in well over a year at this point. And now, Edward was going to receive his physical therapy from their well-respected firm. I'd kept tabs over the last few years. Jasper, along his brother Peter, was very successful. Alice was their practice manager. I turned my attention back to Carlisle.

"I need you to observe a few of his therapy sessions," he was saying, and I turned pale at the thought. "It wouldn't do for me to go over there as faculty. I don't want to insult the owners, but I do need to know what their program entails. I know it's extra work, but I hope you don't mind." Carlisle stared at me hopefully. I laughed and shook my head despite my misgivings. He was really too much.

"Carlisle, you're the attending. I'm the fellow. You're just supposed to tell me what to do, not ask if I'm all right with it," I chided. He grinned in relief.

"Well, Bella, you know I do get a little confused about stuff like that sometimes. And frankly, so do you!" he joked back. I giggled.

"How well I do," I pretended to scoff. The levity was welcome. It allowed me to cover my panic over the coming confrontation. "When is the first session?" He grimaced.

"Well, it's kind of this afternoon. I meant to talk to you about it on Friday, but you weren't feeling well. Can you make it at 4 pm? I already took the liberty of letting Mr. Whitlock know you would be stopping by." He crinkled his brow and squinted one eye as if he was worried I'd strike him. And I wanted to, believe me.

"Yes, of course, I can," I reassured him, hiding my real alarm. "But, I'll need to go change now so I can be on time." He nodded, and I bid him good afternoon. I took a deep breath as I walked away, attempting to steel myself to the coming storm.

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Whitlock and Associates rented space on the ground floor of Texas Orthopedics Hospital, a shiny, white freestanding building on Main Street. I pulled into the patient and visitor parking lot and made my way to the front door. I had never been inside, but I had recently been invited to interview for a physician job to start in the fall. I didn't hold it in the same esteem as the Baylor faculty job, though. I hadn't scheduled the interview yet but entered the main lobby with some curiosity.

The building was tasteful and modern with more of a boutique feel than your typical hospital. The floors in the lobby appeared to be marble with thick carpets laid out on the walkways. Tasteful artwork hung on the walls. A sign directed me to the right past the information desk down a short hallway. I stood before a door that declared this to be the entrance to Whitlock and Associates. I took a deep breath, twisted the knob, and entered.

I found myself in a medium-sized waiting area furnished with reasonably comfortable-looking couches and chairs lining the walls. There was a large-flat screen TV on one wall tuned to ESPN. End tables were scattered throughout with thick stacks of magazines standing on their surfaces. I made my way to the receptionist window. A petite woman with blonde hair and an impossible tan was seated there and smiled at me pleasantly. Her nametag introduced her as Lucy.

"Hi, how can I help you?" she inquired with a thick East Texas accent.

"I'm Dr. Swan," I replied nervously. "I'm here to observe a therapy session. I believe that Mr. Whitlock is expecting me." She let out a little squeak, and her chair took a hop backward.

"Yes, Ma'am, Mrs. Whitlock told me to let her know the second you arrived," she told me in a manner that suggested excitement. I guessed she took her tasking very seriously. My stomach did flips at her words. I'd had no time to prepare myself for an encounter with Alice, and I didn't know how well I'd be received. Lucy was out of her chair and gone before I could say a word.

I stood awkwardly at the window for a moment, and then the door to the main facility swung open to my left. Alice swept through and moved purposefully toward me with a smile. But she stopped short when she reached me. Her arms twitched like she wasn't sure if she should hug me or not.

She looked wonderful. She was dressed as stylishly as always, and her hair was cut in a pixie style that suited her delicate features. As we stared at each other, her smile got away from her, widening further into something that I recognized. I felt my own face pulling into a similar expression. We both took a step forward.

"Bella, it is so good to see you," she exclaimed, and it sounded like she meant it. We closed the distance and put our arms around each other. I sighed in relief. I should have stayed in better touch. Another of my regrets to add to the pile, I thought. She went on.

"When Jasper said he'd been speaking with Dr. Carlisle Cullen, I remembered you talking about him when he was your attending as a medical student. I was sure you worked with him still." It felt good to know that Alice remembered our conversations from years ago just like I did. Then, her welcoming smile faltered.

"I guess you're here to observe Edward's session," she ventured tentatively. I nodded. She seemed to choose her words carefully. "Jasper and Edward have stayed very close friends over the years," she finally finished. I nodded.

"Yes, I assumed that when Carlisle said he needed me to visit your office," I said simply. Alice motioned for me to follow her, and I did. We entered a large open therapy gym littered with mats and other equipment. Two therapists were at work, one with an elderly gentleman on a stationary bike and another helping a middle-aged woman with a lower leg prosthesis walk between parallel bars. The one with the woman was blond and looked very much like Jasper. I figured he must be Peter. I'd never seen the other dark-haired man before.

It looked like there were probably private treatment rooms on the back wall. Alice led me to a series of doors on the outside wall of the space. We entered one that I quickly realized was her office. She motioned for me to sit in one of two chairs situated in front of her desk. She chose the other one instead of sitting behind her desk. I appreciated the friendly gesture, but she spoke seriously.

"So, you're here because you have to be?" she asked carefully. I examined her face trying to discern what answer she wanted to hear.

"Carlisle doesn't know that I have a history with Edward. He asked me to observe a few therapy sessions. I assure you that I can be professional in this situation. I won't cause a scene if that's what you're worried about," I told her with a hint of hurt in my tone. She shook her head.

"I don't doubt that you'll be professional, Bella," she said and stopped. She bit her lip like she wanted to say a lot more. "How are you? Are you doing all right?" she finally asked me. I opened my mouth to tell her I was fine that it had been six years, and it was water under the bridge. But this was Alice. We may not have seen each other in a long time, but I had to tell her the truth.

"I'm fine. It was a shock to see him again; I won't lie. But I'm sure we can work together. I doubt Edward's even thought about me in years. My goal is to get him in top pitching form, just like any good Houstonian," I tried to joke, but it fell flat. Alice watched me appraisingly in silence for longer than necessary. She didn't respond to my jokes or statements.

"Jasper isn't sure this is a good idea. He was going to tell Carlisle not to send you, but I convinced him otherwise. I suspected that it might hurt your standing with Dr. Cullen," she finally said. I gulped and felt my face grow hot at her words. I couldn't answer at first.

"Does Edward know I'm going to be here today?" I managed at last. She shook her head.

"Jasper was hoping you wouldn't come," she admitted. I swallowed hard, suddenly fighting the urge to cry.

"Alice, I can do this," I pleaded softly. I wasn't sure what I was pleading for: my dignity, my reputation as Carlisle's fellow, or just a chance to spend some time with Edward. She smiled sadly.

"I hope you're right, Bella. Let's go. Edward's been here for a few minutes. He's with Jasper in his office." She stood up and motioned for me to follow her down the row of offices. The largest one was in the back corner of the space. The door was closed, so she knocked. I heard a voice call from within.

"Come in." So, she turned the knob and pushed open the door and stepped into the room. I was right behind her.

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A/N: Rice did meet Stanford in the first series of the baseball season this past year, but the games were played in California. A bit of artistic license on my part…


	12. Chapter 12

A/N:

A/N: Sorry for the cliffie at the end of the last chapter. I didn't realize so many people would take it so hard! So, without further ado, I give you…

**Chapter 12**

I stepped into Jasper's office. It was furnished and laid out similarly to Alice's, but somehow it had a slightly more masculine feel. I was sure the subtle differences in fabric and artwork could be attributed to Alice.

I couldn't help but notice the framed photograph of Edward and Jasper on the wall behind his desk. They were smiling into the camera with their arms looped around each other's necks. Edward was wearing an Atlanta Braves jersey, and his bare head was a riot, the cap probably ripped off just before the shot was taken. I was staring at photograph Edward when I heard a throat clear, and I had to turn my attention to the room. I stepped from behind Alice, my barrier up to that point.

"Bella, Dr. Swan, it's a pleasure to see you again," Jasper greeted me stiffly. He was seated behind his desk. Alice hovered just beside and slightly in front of me. Her stance struck me as protective. I wondered if I should be more worried than I was. Finally, my gaze drifted to Edward, who was seated in one of the chairs opposite Jasper's desk. He was wearing an Astros t-shirt and cap with gray basketball shorts. Even his athletic shoes had tiny orange "A's" on the sides. I guess he represented the brand now.

Edward didn't seem surprised to see me, but he only allowed his eyes to meet mine briefly. His lips turned up only barely. Then, he looked away and stared out Jasper's window. He appeared bored, like I would have expected any other professional athlete to be when confronted with a lowly orthopedic fellow. His disinterest made my heart sink, although I reminded myself that I couldn't expect anything more. Jasper spoke.

"Well, we were just going over the therapy plan. Now that Dr. Swan is here, we can move to one of the treatment rooms and start a brief demonstration," he offered. Then, he addressed me. "Dr. Swan, you can let Dr. Cullen know that we plan to ask Edward to work though his routine four days a week, along with some electro-stimulation. I'll personally oversee his work-outs." Edward reanimated from his previous statue impersonation and shook his head violently.

"No way, Jasper. You don't have the time to devote to that. I can definitely work the routine alone here in your gym, or if you won't have that, then Peter or Garrett can supervise." This response was atypical of a professional athlete. Edward obviously cared very much about Jasper's time; most athletes I'd worked with wouldn't bat an eyelash at VIP treatment. Jasper started to argue with Edward, when I heard someone speak.

"I can help with that, too," a voice that sounded suspiciously like mine silenced Jasper. Everyone in the room, including Alice, who still seemed to think I needed an escort, stared at me.

"No," Jasper said firmly with a pronounced frown on his face. "That won't be necessary, Dr. Swan." He fixed me with a meaningful gaze.

"Actually, I worked with Dr. Marcus' fellow in Atlanta," Edward interjected quietly. We all turned to stare at him in surprise. I thought his cheeks might have reddened just a little bit. "So, that's not unheard of," he continued with slight hesitation. "I don't want to put you out, Jasper." And the way he said the last cleared things up for me. Edward cared about Jasper's time and not mine. He already understood that this kind of thing was well within my job description.

Jasper fixed me with a piercing gaze and appraised me seriously. Alice had taken a step back and now stood against the door, but she seemed unable to leave the room. Edward had returned his attention to the scene outside the window. He seemed to care very little how we worked things out.

His attitude seemed very different from that in the clinic the other day. There, he'd seemed almost flirty, like he wanted to get under my skin. And, I admitted to myself, he'd seemed like he'd wanted to talk to me, interact with me. Despite the tailspin, his arrival had caused, it had ignited some level of hope within me, I realized. That was gone now. The silence was stretching out uncomfortably, and I had to speak.

"Yes, Edward is right," I agreed. "I've worked with many of Dr. Cullen's VIP patients. I'd be happy to do what I can in this situation as well." Jasper frowned again, Alice smiled slightly, and Edward continued to look out the window and ignore me.

"Thank you, Dr. Swan," Jasper finally said. "That's very kind of you to offer. I'm sure we can work out a schedule that will benefit all of us, but especially Mr. Masen." His words were heavy with reproach. He didn't want me acting too familiar with Edward. First names were off limits, I guessed.

"Jasper, can I speak with you for a minute?" Alice asked somewhat timidly.

"Not right now. We are heading to the treatment room for a few minutes. I don't want to keep Mr. Masen any longer than necessary. Can we take care of it afterwards?" Jasper asked. Alice stared at him hard and then rolled her eyes. She nodded and left the room. The three of us were left alone together in silence. Jasper stood and moved around his desk with purpose.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing with his right hand. Edward stood from his chair, and I allowed him to follow Jasper out of the room first. We moved in single file from the office to one of the rooms at the back of the gym, which were private rooms, just like I'd suspected.

The room was obviously set up for upper extremity rehab with a universal machine and multiple stretch bands, medicine balls, free weights, and even a weighted golf iron in the repertoire. I gazed about with respect. This was one well-stocked rehab facility. My awe must have been obvious, because Jasper's attitude toward me softened.

"To your liking, Dr. Swan?" he seemed unable to help himself from asking. I smiled at him as warmly as possible.

"It's Bella, please, Jasper." I allowed an urgency to color my seemingly innocent request. He stared at me for a moment or two before nodding imperceptibly. Edward watched us with a detached expression. Even though he was well aware of the significance of shifting back to first names for the two of us, he seemed to be looking through us.

"Let's start the demonstration," Jasper cut off the awkwardness. He handed me several sheets of paper stapled together. "That's for you to take to Dr. Cullen," he explained. "I'll email him an electronic copy, too." And then he proceeded to work through all the exercises and stretches listed on the pages. It wasn't a full work out, and he only had Edward do one or two repetitions of each of them, but it gave us a good idea of what Edward would be doing for the next ten weeks.

I watched intently and asked questions where I felt were needed, but I never allowed myself to touch Edward. I wasn't ready for that again, although I longed to feel his skin against my own. The memory of that examination in the office at Baylor played on a tight loop in my head, making it difficult to concentrate. Finally, we were done, and Jasper laid out his short term and long-term goals for the therapy. He was very professional and adept, and I was quite impressed.

"Please let me know when I can help," I implored when Jasper began going over the schedule. This was important because Edward had commitments to the team as well as to his rehab. They both looked at me sharply.

"Well," Jasper hedged with an unsure glance at Edward, "I'm not usually in the office on Mondays. Was it very difficult for you to get away this afternoon, Bella?" he asked. Edward sat like a robot, not looking at either of us. It was almost as if he weren't the subject of conversation. Jasper shot him a worried look.

"I'm in the OR on Mondays," I admitted eagerly. "I'm usually done by 2 pm at the latest, so this is a very convenient time for me." Edward met my gaze finally.

"This is a good time for me. I don't want Jasper giving up his free time for this, so I'd appreciate it if you'd be able to help, Bella." His use of my nickname caused a shiver down my spine. I felt slightly dizzy, and it took a moment to pull myself together. Jasper was watching our interaction with trepidation.

"I'm happy to do it," I said simply, and he gave a nod. It was decided, then. I'd be spending the next ten Monday afternoons alone with Edward.

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When we were done settling details, we stepped out into the main gym area. Edward grabbed Jasper's elbow and towed him away from me swiftly back toward his office. I tried not to let it hurt my feelings, reminding myself of all the rightful grievances that Edward likely harbored against me. The entire situation was undoubtedly awkward for everyone.

I spotted Alice on the far side of the gym and started making my way toward her. Seeing her today had reminded me how much I'd once treasured her friendship. I wanted to rekindle it. I wanted to be a better person. I felt ashamed it had taken me so many years to realize that.

She was talking to a tall, thin blond woman, who I assumed was a patient until I got closer. That's when I registered her Louis Vuitton handbag, Christian Louboutin shoes, and designer jeans. Her top was flowing and reminded me of an Oscar de la Renta blouse I'd seen the last time I walked through Saks with Rosalie on a weekend browsing mission.

She had tortoise shell sunglasses perched on top of her head, holding her chic shoulder length bob back from an impeccably made up face, which she turned toward me as I approached the pair. Alice's smile faltered as I got closer, and I examined the woman more carefully. That's when I realized she was no patient.

"Bella Swan," she enunciated each syllable carefully and without warmth, very unlike the last time I saw her. It was Kate, Edward's family friend. I'd never known her last name, but she seemed well aware of mine. I tried to smile at her, but I'm sure it looked forced. She tried no such thing.

"Kate, it's nice to see you again," I tried for civility. I knew that she and Alice had become friends years ago when I'd introduced them, but I had no idea what their relationship was nowadays. She had to be here for Edward; there was no other assumption to make. Alice looked nervous, and Kate was sneering. My stomach clenched with jealousy. I wasn't sure if it was over Kate's obviously more intimate relationship with Alice or over her possible relationship to Edward. I supposed it was both.

"What is she doing here?" Kate's words were addressed to Alice, and I glanced around furtively. Luckily, the gym had emptied out.

"Kate," Alice pronounced her name as a warning, but she didn't heed it. In fact, she didn't look back at Alice at all. I was shocked when she seized my forearm.

"Can I talk to you?" she asked rhetorically and started towing me towards the waiting room. I looked back at Alice who just shrugged like she thought I might deserve what was coming.

The waiting room was empty, and I was surprised to see it was after 5 pm. I guessed the door to this room from the main hospital was now locked. No wonder the gym was deserted. Kate and I were alone. I tried to smile at her, but her glare was intimidating.

"Since Alice doesn't want to answer, I'll ask you," she declared. "What are you doing here?" I swallowed, probably audibly.

"I'm Edward's orthopedic surgeon's fellow. I was sent to observe his therapy session," I tried to explain noncommittally.

"Bullshit!" she all but shouted in my face. Gone was the pretty, clever college student I'd met all those years ago. In her place was a woman who obviously thought I'd wronged her. And how do you answer to someone who apparently hates you for something you did six years ago? The appropriate response has to be an eye roll and a reminder that life goes on. The only problem was that I had never moved on; so how could I expect anyone else to have done so also? But I gave it a try.

"Kate, please, I'm so sorry for anything you may feel I've done wrong. I'm here just trying to do right by Edward and get him back in top pitching form. His trade and assignment to Dr. Cullen? It is all a coincidence. I promise I have no ulterior motive, and I assure you I can be professional in this situation. The past is past," I said somewhat pleadingly. She maintained a patronizing expression, utterly unconvinced.

"Bella, you are most likely the worst person I've ever met. Edward is a kind, decent, and talented human being, and you treated him like shit. He is a professional athlete, beloved by many across the country, and you are a washed up has been. I cannot understand how you could have ever considered yourself above him in any way, but apparently you did. I don't like the idea of you being near him," she finished with her hands on her hips. She hadn't said anything that I hadn't thought about myself a million times, so I wasn't all that offended. But her rabid defense of Edward prickled my intuition.

"Are you with Edward now?" I couldn't help myself from asking. I heard Alice appear next to us and sigh. Kate scoffed and didn't reply. Alice interrupted.

"Kate has my old job at Teach for America," she chirped cheerfully. Her attitude was sorely at odds with the rest of the conversation, but she was obviously trying to deflect the antagonism. "She did a two-year teaching tour in Atlanta after she graduated. Then, she took the Training Institute job here in Houston." I knew that Kate and Edward had to have overlapped in Atlanta based on that timeline. The evidence that they might be more than friends was mounting. Kate and I stared at each other, nothing resolved by Alice's random comments. Then, she couldn't hold it in any longer. She moved closer and narrowed her eyes.

"You show up here to save the day, when he's finally done with you, has forgotten all about you. And you want me to believe that's a coincidence. You are a selfish, self-absorbed, horrible person, Bella Swan. And you need to stay far away from Edward." Here she paused to turn away from me and focus her furious gaze on Alice. "And you should stay away from her, too, Alice. You've always defended her, and I'll never understand that, knowing all that you do. Tell Edward that I'll wait for him in the car."

With that, Kate hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder and stalked out the door to the main hospital corridor. Alice and I stood staring wide-eyed at each other after she was gone. Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke.

"So, Kate and Jasper are in agreement over their objection to your working with Edward. That kind of summarized both of their arguments," she said it kind of tongue and cheek with an inappropriateness that hinted of our prior friendship. I found myself smiling a little bit as she shrugged her shoulders ironically.

"You don't say," I responded slowly, and I saw the same hint of smile on her face. It emboldened me. "Alice," I said urgently, "let's meet for lunch this weekend. I don't want you to stay away from me. I've thought a lot about the past over the last few days. An 'I told you so' is long overdue from you." She looked startled by my request, but she started nodding slowly almost immediately.

"Okay, I can probably do that on Saturday, if you're able," she responded. I smiled much wider than before.

"I'm able. I miss you." The admission caused my chest to crack open, and I had to fight back the tears that threatened. She tilted her head and smiled wider too, albeit a bit sadly.

"I miss you, too, Bella. I hope we can get back there. Kate and Jasper aren't completely wrong, you know," she answered. I felt my face flush.

"Edward left me, Alice," I reminded her quietly. She shook her head slowly side to side.

"Did he, Bella?" she asked. "Six years is a long time, but most of the people involved in this don't seem to realize that." And I had to admit that I really didn't know the true answer to her question. I'd never allowed myself to consider it. What would have happened if I'd tried calling him again a few days after the big blow up? And so I left quickly out the waiting room door with a promise to call Alice on Friday. I couldn't handle another encounter with Edward just now, and I especially didn't want to see him greet Kate at her car.

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I drove around for about an hour before I headed home in order to clear my thoughts. Houston isn't a great place to cruise, but I headed onto the interstates until I got out past Katy and saw the first 70 mph sign post. It was already dark, and I turned around pretty quickly, but there was something soothing about passing that sign, like you'd crossed into the Wild West or something. It was something silly I'd done a time or two before when I needed to think or calm down, and I started on my way home as soon as I reached the outlet mall.

I sighed as I pulled up into my parking spot back at my apartment complex. I wasn't sure if I had anything for dinner inside, but I sure as hell wasn't going back out. I walked to the main building and collected my mail from the locked box, and then headed back to my building. I turned the corner and let out a little scream when I saw a man sitting on the concrete stairs blocking my way.

Edward was sitting in the middle of the stairs in the same gray basketball shorts and Astros T-shirt. His elbows were on his knees, but his face dipped low between his upper arms, focused on his personalized athletic shoes. When he heard my squeak, his head jerked up. Our eyes met and held. I expected him to speak; he was, after all, the one invading my space, but he said nothing, just stared at me. So, I made the attempt.

"Hey," I breathed. It was the wrong thing to say. His eyebrows slinked together, and his mouth frowned. I hurried to cover my mistake. "I mean, what are you doing here?" His expression didn't change, but he broke eye contact and looked down again. He sighed deeply then spoke.

"I overheard your conversation with Kate," he admitted but didn't seem able to go on. He stopped and raised his head. "I was surprised when Jasper told me that you still lived here. You've been in the same place for what…almost ten years? There have to be newer, nicer complexes by now." His abrupt subject change was startling. My face heated as I thought about my consideration of that exact thing over the last few days. I shrugged and cleared my throat.

"Um…well…I was comfortable here, and it was pretty cheap compared to the new places. A resident's salary doesn't compare with a pro baseball player's, you know?" The light teasing came to me naturally, but I worried after it was out of my mouth that he might find it inappropriate. I was rewarded with a small but genuine smile and almost collapsed with relief. Apparently, some of that once easy rapport still remained.

"I guess not," he answered with a trace of his trademark sexy smirk. My heart fluttered. "Responsible for your own rent, these days, huh," he added. I smiled and nodded slightly to confirm it. I had been since the day I graduated from medical school.

Edward suddenly heaved himself to his feet and moved back down the steps to stand in front of me on the ground level concrete. I couldn't decide if he was too close or too far away.

"Bella, I want to make sure we can do this. Work together, I mean." His subject change was abrupt again, and his voice took on an air of urgency that set my heart racing. His expression was earnest, and he forced eye contact. I fought against the instinct to step forward and smooth the hair back from his face, to ease his worries. My fingers twitched with desire as I remembered what it felt like to do just that.

"Edward, there's nothing I want more," I told him simply. I kept my breathing even with difficulty because I didn't mean that I wanted to work with him. My words meant that I wanted_ him_. But I would never admit that, not out loud and not to him. I'd been too foolish and waited too long for that to happen. Idiot that I was, it had taken me this long to realize it. And it was too late. Despite the fleeting hope over the weekend, he was with Kate now. He lifted his head to look at me again.

"She really hates you, you know," he said. I nodded and smiled a bit ruefully since it seemed as if he'd read my mind.

"I'm sure she does. Probably not wrong to do so," I joked half-heartedly. He smiled briefly, too, and my spirits soared.

"I told her she was off base, that we all had to work together, and she agreed to try," he informed me. "Jasper, too," he added. I shifted my bag on my shoulder a little higher.

"Well, then, next Monday, we'll get serious about it all," I responded. He nodded slightly. I hesitated but finally asked what I had no right to do.

"So how long have you and Kate been together?" I ventured. This caused him to stuff his hands in his pockets and step closer to me. He took another step forward so that we were only inches apart. He towered over me more than I remembered. He looked down with the old smirk in place, the one I'd seen in the clinic the other day, and raised a hand to flick the hair back from my forehead.

"Now, Bella, I don't think that's your business, is it?" he asked cheekily. And he walked past me toward the parking lot without another word. I was left standing there at the base of the steps not knowing what to do. I was eaten up by regret, desire, and confusion.

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I checked the time when I unlocked the door to my apartment. It was already after 7 pm to my surprise. I rummaged through the freezer and found some frozen enchiladas. They went in the microwave, and I called Rosalie. She answered immediately.

"Hey, Chica, what's up?" she asked cheerfully. Emma must have gone down easily tonight. I could hear Emmett laughing in the background.

"I'm not interrupting you guys, am I?" I asked. She laughed and assured me I wasn't.

"No, Emma went down without a fight for once," she told me, and I fist-bumped the air for my extrasensory perception. "And Emmett is just plain entertaining at all times," she giggled fondly as he said something close to the receiver in the background. My gut flared with jealousy over their perfect life. Her voice grew serious.

"What's up, Bella? How are you doing since we last talked? Have you had anymore interactions with Edward?" Emmett's laugh cut off suddenly in the background. She must have given him some sort of hand signal. I grumbled a little but relayed everything about today. I didn't tell her about the baseball game the other day. That seemed too personal, for some reason, probably because it was humiliating. She was quiet while I talked.

"So he seems willing to make things civil," she summarized after I told her everything. I grunted.

"Yeah, I guess so, Rosalie, but you didn't see him this afternoon in the gym. He looked miserable. I was making him miserable." Saying those words out loud made me feeling like a horrible person.

"Huh," she said in response. "Maybe. But I think that he seems a little bit too aware of you to play this 'I'm a professional athlete, and I have no memory of my college past,' narrative convincingly. You should ask him out," she concluded. I gasped in shock.

"You are insane! Have you even listened to a thing I've said? He's with Kate now. He had to seek me out to make sure we could be in the same room together." My voice was shrill, and I cringed at the volume. She chuckled, and I questioned why I was her friend at all. I'd told her everything, and she didn't seem to take any of it seriously.

"He hates me, Rosalie. I have to deal with that," I told her. She laughed.

"Is he really with Kate? Does he hate you? No, don't respond to that question. Just think about it when you work with him next Monday. Promise me. All I'm saying is that Jasper and Kate seem a bit too worried about how Edward will react to being around you. If it was truly water under the bridge, don't you think that they could care less about you?" she demanded. I grumbled with skepticism, but I agreed to consider it to at least keep her quiet. We ended the conversation, but not before she invited herself to lunch with Alice and me on Saturday. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea, but Rosalie insisted that Alice should be introduced into all aspects of my current life. I only agreed since I knew Alice probably wouldn't mind. She had always enjoyed meeting new people.

Unfortunately, that pesky thing called hope invaded my thoughts once again when I tried to lie in bed. Could Rosalie be right? No one had confirmed that Kate and Edward were together as a couple, even though Alice, Kate, and Edward had all had a chance to do so. I tried to put it out of mind so I could fall asleep; I would investigate further next Monday. I needed to focus on the week ahead. I'd been distracted today and that behavior would not earn me the faculty job. But it was several hours before I was able to drift off.

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A/N: Although it is not unheard of, orthopedic surgeons are not usually involved with physical therapy sessions. In my experience, this rule (or perhaps disinterest) is bent when a VIP is involved, so that's what I'm basing the plot here on. I'm not a physical therapist, even though I've worked with them extensively and did some therapy myself as a flight surgeon deployed on an aircraft carrier far from PT's. The point is, I might make some mistakes in the details. If I do, I will not be offended if you let me know, and I will even update the content to reflect this if I'm convinced you're right. I'm a stickler for accuracy, as you may know


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: First of all, this one's for Derek Jeter who ended his career at Yankee Stadium last night in spectacular fashion. Nice guys finish first, indeed. Congratulations, Captain.

Wow, we've got a big division in the reviewers right now, and I'm loving it! Distinct Team Bella and Team Edward elements have evolved, although most seem to be solidly in Team Bella's camp now, which is a big change from a few chapters ago. Anyway, I'm sorry to announce that there will be no Edward in this chapter. But, I think you Alice-haters will be quite pleased by what goes down. Some of this may seem like unrelated filler, but it's very important to what happens later. Plus, this chapter is really nice and long.

Thanks to my new pre-reader, Cejsmom.

Read on…

**Chapter 13**

Tuesday's schedule varied for me. The rest of my week was set, but Tuesday was Carlisle's academic day, his chance to catch up on the administrative side of his job. So, the department had arranged other things for me to do on that day of the week. The first Tuesday of the month I staffed residents on general cases at the VA. Most other Tuesdays I worked in clinic with the other Sports attending in the department, but he was on vacation, skiing in Aspen this week. The third Sports position was vacant at the moment, the very job I was campaigning for myself.

I showed up at Carlisle's office at 8 am, unsure what to do with myself that day. I figured I could give him the therapy plan and answer any questions he had about Whitlock and Associates. Then, I 'd see if he needed my help with anything. If not, I'd go over to the VA and review some charts, get caught up on some journal articles, and maybe go home early. Although, I really didn't have anything fun to do with my unexpected free time. Carlisle had obviously just arrived and was starting up his computer when I came in. He glanced up and smiled when he saw it was I who stood in the doorway.

"How'd yesterday go?" he asked nervously. I could see how uncomfortable he was with the idea of working with an outside firm on his big VIP patient. I decided to come clean. Kind of.

"Carlisle, it was fine. I know I didn't mention it yesterday, but I've known the Whitlocks for years. They're old friends and very professional. Jasper is overseeing the entire project himself." I moved to the edge of his desk and reached into my messenger bag for the papers Jasper had given me yesterday and handed them over. Carlisle retrieved his reading glasses from the clutter next to his computer and put them on, scanning the page intently. He seemed to be barely listening so I thought it might be a good time to expand on my explanation. As much as I'd liked to leave it as it was, he needed more information.

"Jasper and Edward have also been friends for years, so you can be sure that he'll do his best to get Edward back in shape. He does have other commitments on Mondays, so I volunteered to work with Edward for those sessions," I blurted out quickly. Carlisle dropped the pages on the desktop and removed the glasses. Damn, I guess he had been listening.

"Is that how you met Edward before?" he asked looking at me intently. "Your relationship with the Whitlocks seems like a large thing to omit from our discussion yesterday. I was so worried I was putting you out," he admonished.

"I know," I hedged, fiddling with the strap of my bag and breaking eye contact, "but you sprung it on me at the last second. I had to hurry in order to make it on time. I figured I'd tell you this morning. Like I'm doing now," I finished with a bit more steel in my voice. He'd be more suspicious if I didn't sass him a little bit.

He was placated and let out a small bark of laughter. The glasses went back on, and he resumed his study of the therapy plan. I started to relax and dropped my bag on the floor beside me. I was opening my mouth to ask him if he needed anything else from me, when he seemed to have a second thought. He raised his index finger to the bridge of his nose and pulled the glasses down far enough for him to look over the top at me.

"I'm not sure how appropriate it is for you to be socializing with Edward Masen. He is our patient, after all," Carlisle warned. He was obviously fishing, having realized I never answered his question about how I'd known Edward in the past. But he need not worry about that, and I told him as much.

"Don't worry about that, Carlisle. We are definitely not socializing. Alice Whitlock is a good friend, and that's it. My relationship with Edward is purely professional," I huffed. But he continued to eye me doubtfully, and I kicked myself for probably protesting too much.

Carlisle could not find out about my past with Edward because if he did, he would keep me away from him, bar me from being part of his treatment. And I'd never see him again. Even though I knew there was no future between us, seeing him again had awakened something in me that I was not prepared to go without again. Finally, he changed the subject, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you familiar with Charles Platt?" Carlisle asked. I nodded.

"Yes, the Chief at Texas Children's Hospital. He's great; I did a rotation with him as a medical student," I replied eagerly, embracing the new topic.

"Well, he's a member at my club, and we've played golf a few times. He called me last night about his daughter. She twisted her knee playing tennis last week, and the joint has gotten pretty swollen. She's been resting it and icing, but it doesn't seem to be getting any better. He asked me to see her today. Would you like to stick around and help? If you've got other stuff to do, I'll manage fine. She's been added to the Major Joint schedule, and the nursing staff knows to come find me when she's ready," he explained.

"No, I don't mind helping you with her. How old is she?" I wondered why the Pediatric Ortho guys at TCH weren't seeing her. He shrugged.

"I don't know exactly. Chuck always brags about her design business. She went to Parsons and moved back several years ago, so probably late twenties. I guess she's pretty active in the amateur tennis leagues. Apparently, she's pretty anxious about the injury," he detailed.

"Oh, I thought she was a kid," I told him. "Has she had an MRI?" He shook his head.

"No, but it sounds like we'll need to order one," he admitted. Just then, I heard Tanya's nasal voice interrupt us. I turned to look at her.

"Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Cullen," she said saccharinely from the doorway, "but Miss Platt is here. We're getting her vitals and are going to put her in Exam 8 as soon as it's free." She lingered in the doorway, and I rolled my eyes. Her own narrowed at me in return when she saw me do it.

"Thanks, Tanya. Bella will be there in a minute. You can head back to the station," he dismissed her. She pouted but followed his instructions.

"Carlisle, she can't take a hint. You're going to have to spell it out for her," I told him dryly. He frowned and shook his head at me disapprovingly, ignoring my statement. I stifled a giggle.

"I'll head up front. I'll let you know when I'm done," I let him off the hook.

Emmett was bent over one of the computers at the nurses' station when I entered the back clinic area. He was intent on an MRI film and didn't hear me approaching. I smacked the back of his head as I passed, and he jolted in surprise.

"You'll pay for that, Swan," he promised with a grin.

"I don't doubt it, McCarty," I shot back. One of the junior residents was chuckling openly. Emmett had looked pretty funny flailing around, and he'd almost fallen off the chair. It had been totally worth it. I learned that Miss Platt was already in Exam 8, and I retrieved the tablet from its slot outside the door and quickly reviewed her vital statistics. Esme Platt was twenty-nine years old, so definitely not a kid.

"Hi, Miss Platt," I greeted her as I entered the room. "I'm Dr. Swan, Dr. Cullen's fellow, and I'm going to help him by getting started on your exam today." Esme was seated on the exam table and wearing a loose floral print tunic over leggings and boots. She was actually quite beautiful with light, golden brown hair cut in straight expert layers, flowing beyond her shoulders and tucked behind her ears. Her skin was cream colored with just a hint of pinkness in her cheeks. Her clothes hinted at designer origins, and she had accessorized with only a large, chunky silver watch and large round cut diamond earrings.

"It's Esme, please," she answered in a rich, clear voice. Luckily, her years in New York had not affected her Texas twang. I liked her immediately, but she made me feel a little self-conscious. Her perfection was intimidating. But I reminded myself of why we were here.

"All right, Esme, I'm going to need you to change into a pair of our disposable shorts, so we can get a look at what's going on with your knee. I opened a drawer in the side of the exam table and pulled out the ever fashionable, blue, disposable paper shorts found in orthopedic clinics everywhere. She grimaced slightly at them, and I laughed.

"Don't worry, you can take great pleasure in throwing them away when we're done," I told her, and she giggled a little. I stepped out for a few minutes while she changed, and Carlisle came around the corner into the patient hallway.

"We haven't gotten very far," I warned him. "She's changing into the shorts now. I haven't even gotten a history."

"That's OK," he said. "I'll just stick my head in and say hello." We both re-entered the room together. I noticed something strange immediately. When Esme caught sight of us, she flinched slightly, and her eyes widened. She crossed her legs and stretched the tunic down further over the shorts, like she was trying to cover them. Then, she looked away and started fidgeting. All traces of the pleasant confident woman I'd met a few minutes ago were gone.

I turned expectantly toward Carlisle, waiting for him to speak, but he just stood there with his mouth slightly open. After a few seconds, the atmosphere became distinctly awkward, and I was forced to intervene.

"Esme, this is Dr. Cullen, the attending physician. He'll join us in a little while once I've finished taking your history an examining your knee," I made the introductions, and my eyes fell to her now exposed right knee which did look as if it was retaining quite a bit of fluid. We might need to tap it.

"Hi, Dr. Cullen," Esme finally said shyly. Carlisle nodded vaguely at her and left the room without a word. It was very odd. The second the door closed behind him, Esme's demeanor changed.

"Why didn't you tell me that he was so young?" she hissed at me. I was taken aback.

"What?" I asked stupidly. She elaborated

"Dr. Cullen," she clarified. "He's young. I thought he'd be my dad's age. And handsome. You should have warned me I'd be forced to meet a handsome doctor wearing hideous paper shorts!" I looked at her for a moment, wondering if she was seriously mad at me, but then she burst into laughter.

"I'm kidding," she chuckled. "But I am humiliated. Is he single?" My face reddened. Talking to her about Carlisle like this was like talking about your older brother's sex appeal.

"Yes," I stammered. He was with Siobahn, but he was not married, so it wasn't a lie. "But I don't think we should be having this conversation. Why don't you tell me what happened with your knee?" I tried to change the subject. She laughed again.

"I'm sorry I'm making you uncomfortable," she sighed and grinned at me wickedly. "I'll drop it for now. We can talk about my knee." And she proceeded to detail the injury and what she'd been doing for it at home. I went through the exam quickly and told her I'd be back with Carlisle in a few minutes. She mimed fanning herself, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes and grin back at her. I found Carlisle in his office, and he was absently shuffling papers on his desk but seemed to have no real purpose.

"She's ready," I told him, and he stood hesitantly from his desk chair. He had the air of the original Carlisle before I spoke up for him in front of Trey all those years ago. "Are you all right?" I asked him suspiciously. He stared at me for a few seconds before answering.

"I just didn't expect her to be so pretty," he finally admitted. My jaw dropped in disbelief. This could not be happening; Carlisle and I were close, but I did not dole out love advice for good reason. "I golf with her father. It's just awkward," he defended.

"Carlisle, we deal with attractive and unattractive people every day," I rebuked him, but my thoughts flitted to Edward, and my exam of his shoulder last week. "It's never bothered you before," I reminded him. He nodded with narrowed eyes.

"You're right. It's no big deal," he agreed and started to follow me down the hall. I couldn't resist.

"But she did just tell me that she thought you were handsome," I added with a twinkle in my eye. He stopped walking and glared at me.

"I could have done without knowing that, Bella," he muttered as we resumed our walk. I chuckled to myself.

The two of them behaved like idiots, but somehow we got through the exam and sent Esme off to MRI when we were done.

"You should ask her out," I declared when we were alone again. "She's prettier and much nicer than Siobahn. Not to mention, she's actually sane," I deadpanned. Carlisle glared at me again.

"Bella, as we discussed earlier, it is not professional to date your patients. In fact, depending on the circumstances, one could lose their medical license over something like that. She almost certainly has a meniscus tear and will require ongoing treatment," he told me piously. I felt a frisson of unease, but then reminded myself I was in no danger of a situation where I'd be able to date a patient. Edward was lost to me, and I couldn't imagine wanting to date anyone else anytime soon, especially while I was seeing him weekly. But I felt compelled to argue with Carlisle.

"You know that rule is really for psychiatrists and situations where the doctor has perceived power over the patient. And you could always have her see Dr. Alistair," I pointed out, referring to his colleague currently on vacation.

"But her father wanted her to see me. So, it's up to me to do everything I can to care for her…her knee," he perseverated. I shrugged and dropped the subject. It was fine with me if he wanted to be stubborn. We chatted about a few other things, and I headed over to the VA to work on charts until lunchtime.

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The rest of the week passed at a snail's pace. Before Edward had returned, the only important thing that lay in my future was my graduation and procuring my desired job. I was now able to admit to myself that I had never thought past that achievement to what my life would be like afterwards. I figured I'd find a better apartment, but that was about it. That realization made my life seem empty and pointless, and the only thing I could seem to muster any enthusiasm for was my weekly meeting with Edward coming the next Monday. And that was very dangerous. So time dragged on, and I was left alone with my thoughts, which were not good company.

Carlisle did not mention Esme Platt to me again, but I looked up her radiology report and found that she did indeed have a meniscal tear. She also had an appointment booked in clinic for Friday the 28th. I figured Carlisle would want to try conservative treatment with NSAIDs and therapy first. I'd see how they acted in clinic at that visit before I pushed for him to transfer her care over to Bob Alistair. I couldn't understand why he was being so stubborn about such a small, insignificant thing. It was very narrow-minded if you asked me.

Finally, Saturday arrived, and I met Alice and Rosalie at Benjy's in Rice Village as we had agreed. It was Rosalie's choice, and she seemed to have taken over the entire outing. It made me feel a little uneasy about the whole thing. I was suspicious she had something planned, although she insisted she only wanted to meet Alice. If I were going to rekindle my friendship with her, it would be nice if the two of them got along as well. What she said made sense.

I was unsurprised to find Rosalie already seated at one of the best tables in the restaurant even though I was about ten minutes early. One of the first things that we'd noticed about each other was our habitual earliness. That trait alone probably launched our friendship.

She was seated at a four top in the corner by the downstairs front window. The restaurant had an industrial feel with wide-open space, metal and wood accents, and lots of light. It was also a reasonably priced option for fancy weekend brunch and was currently filled with tables full of giggling or whispering young women. It wasn't my kind of place, but the food was good, and I knew that Rosalie loved it. I seemed to remember Alice saying positive things about it in the past, too, which is why I'd agreed to the reservation.

She looked up from the single-paged menu when I approached. She laid the heavy printed card stock down and gave me her attention as I pulled out the chair next to her and sat down, propping my purse on the floor next to me. I smiled and started to greet her but she spoke before I could.

"So, is Alice going to be late?" she asked. The unease in my belly increased. She sounded confrontational, and that was never a good mood for Rosalie. Her self-assurance and confidence were traits that I admired and aspired to, but sometimes she tipped over into judgmental. I shook my head.

"I don't know, Rosalie. The reservation isn't for another ten minutes. She knows how much lateness irks me, but I'm the one trying to get back in her good graces. I won't bar her from the table if she's a few minutes late," I tried to joke. Rosalie studied me seriously.

"I think she should be the one trying to get back in your good graces, not the other way around," she told me. I wrinkled my brow and frowned.

"How do you figure?" I huffed. She shrugged.

"She put a dick before her chick," she replied crassly. I couldn't hold in the unbelieving laugh that bubbled out.

"Excuse me?" I choked. She cracked a smile then, too.

"I mean, that she chose Jasper when you and Edward broke up. You were heartbroken and needed your friend, and she wasn't there for you," she explained. Damn it, I hadn't realized until that moment that Rosalie considered she had a bone to pick with Alice.

"Rose, the fact we drifted apart is just as much my fault as hers. Do not bait her or try and start something. Do you understand?" I whispered harshly, leaning over the table towards her. She rolled her eyes and leaned away from me.

"Fine. I just don't think you realize how messed up you still are over what happened with Edward. You haven't faced it, and you still think you're the only one who carries any blame. It's like it ruined your life. You work, sleep, and occasionally shop with me or go out with Emmett and me. That's it. You're boring. Weren't you more interesting at some point?" She asked in her blunt way, and I had to consider her question carefully. Finally, I shook my head.

"No, I was never more interesting than this," I told her quietly. "I think that's why I lost Edward and also Alice. I've always been wrapped up in getting to the next thing, and I don't allow myself to enjoy what I have." She stared at me.

"Wow, that was some pretty heavy self-analysis for a Saturday morning," she whistled. I nodded and twisted my mouth in a self-deprecating expression.

"Well, I have been thinking a lot about the past this week," I admitted. Alice arrived at that moment, and I was pretty sure she caught my last statement. Rosalie and I had been so heavy in conversation that I'd missed her approach. I glanced over at Rosalie with my eyebrows raised. My message was clear; she was right on time.

We all stood, and I made introductions all around. They smiled politely at each other and shook hands over the table. Alice sat next to me and across from Rosalie, and the waitress appeared to tell us about the specials and take our drink orders. Once she had left us alone, we all looked at each other for a minute, unsure where to take the conversation. Of course, Rosalie spoke up first. I cringed and waited for an inappropriate remark.

"So, Alice, it's nice to finally meet you. I've heard lots about you, and I can't believe I'm just now meeting you five years after I first met Bella. Especially since we all live in the same city," she said with a bright smile. She sounded sincere, but I could hear the subtle dig in her statement. I shot her a warning look, and she turned her serene smile on me.

"Likewise, Rosalie," Alice replied with sad smile. "I'm afraid I've been remiss in keeping up with my friendships over the last five years since my husband and I started our physical therapy firm. And you medical types are always so busy." It was a good answer, and Rosalie looked somewhat assuaged because Alice had a point. The call schedule of a resident was brutal. It was only since I started my fellowship that my life was a little bit more normal.

Then, Alice asked Rosalie about plastic surgery and what her plans were once she finished in the summer. Rosalie explained that she and Emmett had both been offered faculty positions in Galveston at UTMB. They were thrilled that there were academic openings for them both at the same time so close to home. Alice congratulated her on that fortunate coincidence, and Rosalie seemed to be warming up to her.

We were enjoying our Bloody Marys and indulging in superficial small talk about new restaurants, having placed our food orders. I thought things were going well, and I was just starting to relax when Rosalie struck again. She leaned forward conspiratorially like she was going to reveal a big secret, and both Alice and I unconsciously leaned in, too.

"So, Alice, is Edward Masen seriously dating this Kate girl?" she asked and purposefully took a bite of her omelet, chewing interestedly with wide, innocent eyes. I slowly closed my own eyes and bowed my head a little in defeat, but I looked up again quickly. I was interested in the answer, after all. Alice looked like a deer caught in headlights with her fork halfway to her mouth.

She put down her fork and wiped her mouth delicately, obviously composing herself. She looked decidedly uncomfortable when she finally answered.

"I don't think I better talk about Edward and Kate," she said cautiously. Rosalie laughed, and I caught the edge in it, but I doubt Alice did.

"Why not?" she bellowed. "We're talking about the ex-boyfriend of your college roommate and one of your oldest friends. I think we can gossip a little here." Alice shook her head and glanced over at me nervously. I wanted to intervene, but I was stunned silent, watching the train wreck as it occurred.

"Um…Edward is kind of a touchy subject," Alice tried, wringing her hands in the napkin in her lap. The smile slid off Rosalie's face.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," she said seriously, sitting up straighter in her chair and fixing the gaze that terrified junior residents on Alice. She jerked her thumb in my direction and went on. "Bella's never gotten over him. She's been on like three dates in the last six years, and she dreams about him several times a week." She sat back and took a large gulp of her drink, her eyes still trained on Alice. I found my voice.

"Rosalie! That's enough!" I said forcefully, fighting to keep from shouting in a public place. Alice looked stricken. She turned to face me.

"You told her that?" she asked with disbelief. I turned to glare at Rosalie, who had opened her mouth to add more. She huffed and crossed her arms but kept quiet.

"Well, not in so many words," I told Alice drily, rolling my eyes, "but I did tell Rosalie about everything a few months after we met. I was still pretty raw as an intern, and there was a lot of stress during that year." Alice sighed.

"I wish I'd known that, Bella," she said with regret. Rosalie spoke again before I could stop her.

"Well, maybe you would have Alice, if you'd stayed in touch with Bella," she chided. Alice bristled.

"Rosalie, I can see that you are good friend to Bella, but some of this is between she and I and has nothing to do with you," she said, steel in her voice and turned toward me.

"She is correct about one thing though, Bella. I do owe you an apology. It appears that I misunderstood you. You were constantly telling me how things could never work with Edward. I told you to give him a few days to cool down and try to call him again, but you never did. I think he was waiting for it, and I also believe he was sorry for blowing up the way he did. I just assumed that you decided he wasn't worth it, when you didn't get in touch. Then, you quit taking my calls, and you barely spoke to me at my own wedding," she trailed off. Rosalie frowned and started to argue, but I held up a hand.

"She's right, Rose, most of this is my fault," I agreed with a sigh. "But, Alice, it was just too hard to be around you and Jasper at that point." They both looked at me with sympathy, and I once again realized how absolutely I'd fucked up my life. And for what, so I could end up like Carlisle? That thought really jolted me. I must have had an odd expression on my face because Alice spoke again albeit slowly. She addressed me.

"Edward is a close friend, Bella, so I can't betray his confidence. And I've promised Jasper that I would not get in the middle of this awkward situation, and by that I mean the two of you having to work together. But, I do feel bad participating in something that purposefully misleads you," she said. She placed her palms on the table on either side of her chicken and waffle plate and seemed to gather her strength. Rosalie was uncharacteristically silent waiting for Alice's revelation.

"Kate is a friend. You introduced us, and I helped her get involved with Teach for America. She has been a tireless advocate for education, and I really respect her dedication to the organization. She's a great person. But she's a little protective of Edward and occasionally goes overboard. But I'm sure you can appreciate that," she told us steadily with a sideways cut of her eyes at Rosalie. My heart clenched at the thought of Edward and Kate together, and my stomach heaved. Alice must have seen the sick look on my face because she hurried to add more.

"She did date Edward just after you broke up." Alice gave me an apologetic shrug, and I hated myself. I had done that, thrown them together. Well, maybe Elizabeth had helped. Alice went on. "But it was a matter of convenience, and definitely a rebound for Edward. It ended amicably, and their friendship was stronger." I almost couldn't define how I felt hearing that. Edward and Kate weren't together. My heart soared, but I kept my joy in check. I suspected there was more to it. And there was.

"She's Edward's best friend. He flailed a little bit in his personal life when he first got to Atlanta. She was a major grounding influence," Alice confirmed. "She moved back to Houston from Atlanta almost two years ago, as you probably figured out, and Jasper and I invited her to one of our parties. We had just hired Garrett Concord as our newest therapist, and the two of them hit it off. They've been together ever since." This final revelation was made with a slight smile, and I had to swallow hard to keep a sigh of relief from escaping. I recalled someone mentioning Garrett's name at the gym the other day. So Kate had been there with Edward but also because of her connection to Garrett. Rosalie couldn't keep quiet.

"So how did Bella get the impression that Kate and Edward were together, hmm? Was she just mistaken?" she asked astutely. Alice shook her head with a frown and looked down at the table.

"Kate wanted to give Bella that impression, to keep her away from Edward. She's convinced that Bella has somehow orchestrated this reunion in order to seduce Edward now that he's famous," she admitted with chagrin. Rosalie laughed out loud, and the ladies at the table next to ours looked over at us curiously.

"Yeah, that sounds like Bella. She's a real gold digger," she snorted with sarcasm. Alice nodded, and I was surprised to see that she agreed with Rosalie.

"No, Bella is not like that," she concurred as if I weren't sitting right there. "I told Kate, but she wouldn't listen. Jasper thought it was a great idea, and he was pretty angry with me for refusing to go along," Alice told us. Rosalie looked confused.

"But you did go along," she pointed out. Alice shook her head.

"No, I never said anything. I did try and deflect when you brought it up earlier, but I had already decided not to lie if asked," she insisted. We all sat silently for a moment or two, considering that.

"Did Edward know?" I asked timidly. Alice remained expressionless, searching my face. Finally, she answered.

"Well, that conversation occurred between Kate, Jasper, and I on Monday afternoon before you or Edward arrived in the gym. But Edward is far from stupid and very perceptive. As you probably recall," she added with a sharp look at me. I looked away. He had known, I decided. His flippant comment when he left me at the apartment confirmed it for me. I said nothing and kept that encounter to myself.

The waitress arrived then, to clear our plates. It had been a very eventful meal, if I did say so myself. Even Rosalie looked like she was turning things over in her head. But the three of us sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"Bella, you hurt Edward badly," Alice finally declared. I cringed.

"I know that," I told her. "I was wrong. I wish I could take it back." The words fell heavy on the table. It was the first time I'd admitted such out loud. Alice shook her head with what appeared to be great sadness.

"I don't want to get your hopes up," she told me. "I'm not sure if he can ever trust you," she whispered the last. I sighed.

"I really don't blame him, Alice. And I don't expect it, either. I should have allowed him to be more of a partner instead of holding him at arms length. But he hurt me, too when he left," I told her. She nodded slowly.

"I can't help you," she said slowly. "But I won't stand in the way either," she promised.

"Oh, Alice, there's no plan. I'm not going after him. My heart can't take it. I just want to work with him, get him better, and try to move on," I told her with feeling.

"We'll see about that," interjected Rosalie. Both Alice's gaze and mine shot back to her satisfied expression. The waitress brought our check right then, and the subject was blessedly abandoned. But I was left to turn over the revelations of the day in my mind ad nauseum.

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Once again, I'm very, very sorry that there was no real Edward in this chapter. We will see him again soon, as in the beginning of the next chapter. Don't worry.

When I was a flight surgeon, there was this handsome, funny, overall awesome fighter pilot who was considered my patient. Yeah, so it wasn't smooth or without drama, but we ended up together. I am positive that I never violated the Hippocratic oath, so I'm all right with it. I think knowing his perspective made me better able to deal with the other guys' problems, i.e. made me a better flight surgeon. Since we've been married for seven years, I think I've been proven correct. But the point is, patient-doctor relationships are a very touchy subject, and the taboo not easily dismissed.

In other news, the Astros just announced this past week that they have switched their AAA affiliation from Oklahoma City to the Fresno Grizzlies! This is an incredible coincidence, since I also lived in Fresno for 8 years. I've been to several Grizzlies games at Chukchansi Park, and the Radisson across the street is where the annual NAS Lemoore Hornet Ball (Naval Aviation formal) is held. This information might be a teaser, and it might mean that future chapters just got a lot easier to write…


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Here we are back with the next installment. Most of you still seem to be strongly Team Bella. Some of you feel better about Alice, but some of you are still skeptical. Everyone seems to love Rosalie. How about a little Bella/Edward interaction this chapter? Read on…

Thanks to my pre-reader Cejsmom!

Chapter 14

Both Alice and Rosalie tried to call me on Sunday, but I let them go to voicemail. I was an unpleasant ball of emotion. And for someone like me, who tended to keep things bottled up and seemingly forgotten, it was rather uncomfortable. I was pretty angry over Jasper and Kate's childish scheme to make me look more like an idiot than I already was. I'd never done anything to them. I got more worked up the more I thought about it. Edward and I had both made mistakes in our relationship. My father was the only one who had ever really openly cared about me, and when I lost him, something broke inside me. I wasn't prepared for Edward to care about me the way he had, and it had caused me to panic.

I arrived at this conclusion after lying in bed all day on Sunday and watching insipid movies on Lifetime. I hate that channel, but something kept me from changing it to something else. It was kind of depressing that my psyche was so easily analyzed. I really was boring, just like I'd told Rosalie on Saturday. Sleep was difficult because I was anticipating my meeting with Edward the next day. Not because I had a grand plan to win him back like Rosalie wanted, but because I just wanted to see him and bask in his charisma. I was resigned that any attempts to be with Edward would be sadly doomed. Alice had essentially confirmed that. And his two guard dogs would undoubtedly stop me in my tracks if I tried.

Carlisle noticed my distraction in the OR. I didn't mess anything up, but I was slower and less confident than usual. He glanced at me with concern a few times and asked if I was all right, but I reassured him several times that I was fine, just tired. He stared at me skeptically in the PACU after the second case, but didn't comment. I couldn't help think that his reticence was a boon on that particular day, even though I often coached him to be more forceful. Another reason for me to stay on at Baylor, Carlisle needed me.

Finally, blessedly, the day was over, and I had to hurry to make it to Whitlock and Associates on time. We had run over a little in the OR thanks to my wandering brain. I still arrived with some time to spare.

I wish I could say I hadn't agonized over my clothing choice on Sunday, but I'd given it more than passing consideration. I had decided on black Under Armour capri jogging tights with a retro loose navy and orange Astro's t-shirt. Rosalie had once told me that the pants made my ass look fantastic, and I objectively agreed with her. I left my hair down over my shoulders since I wouldn't be the one working up a sweat. I checked in nervously with Lucy about fifteen minutes early. She greeted me enthusiastically.

"Hi, Dr. Swan. It's nice to see you again. Mrs. Whitlock told me to expect you and let you know she was sorry she wouldn't be in today," she bubbled. I felt chagrin when I realized Alice wouldn't be there. I wondered if she was angry but remembered that she had called me on Sunday, and I hadn't returned the call. Maybe she had been going to tell me then. It was Jasper's day off, after all. They probably liked to have the same days off.

"So you're going to be working with Mr. Masen today, huh?" Lucy asked. I noticed her top was quite a bit lower cut than the other day. She dipped her chin and looked at me from under her lashes. "He's awfully handsome, don't you think? Do you know if he's single?" My stomach rolled at her assessment, but I couldn't stop myself from answering her.

"I'm pretty sure he's not, Lucy," I told her with as sweet a smile as I could manage. It was completely faked, but Lucy didn't seem to notice. She shrugged gamely and smiled back genuinely.

"Can't stop a girl from dreaming, right?" She said cheerfully, and I felt like such a bitch. She was a nice girl and a talented receptionist. For not the first time, I pondered if I were missing the same sensitivity chip that Jennifer Anniston claimed Brad Pitt lacked. I agreed and tried to be a bit more authentic in my interaction.

"Garrett set up the room for you. He hasn't come back up front yet, so he might not be done. You can head back to Room 3. It's on the back wall with the others," she directed. My ears perked at the mention of Garrett, Kate's mysterious boyfriend. Lucy buzzed me through to the gym floor, and I headed straight for the room in question.

I recognized the "2" and the "4" on the rooms adjacent to one with the door ajar, and I quickly deduced that must be the one. I cautiously approached and peered inside. A tall, dark haired man in scrub pants and a tight Rockets t-shirt was taming tension bands on an equipment rack. I cleared my throat and spoke.

"I can finish doing that. I'm early after all," I said. He turned around, obviously surprised to find another person in the room. His mouth curved in a small smile.

"Bella Swan?" he asked. I nodded.

"That's me. I'm here to work with Edward Masen," I told him, even though he already knew.

"Garrett Concord," he introduced himself and stuck out his hand. I shook it as firmly as possible. That kind of stuff was important to guys for some reason.

"Nice to meet you," I replied. "Alice has said nice things about you." He quirked one eyebrow and smiled a little wider. He'd probably heard horrible things about me from Kate.

"Pleasure to meet you, too," he said finally. "I'm surprised Jasper agreed to have an outsider work with our star patient. You must come highly recommended," he challenged. I chuckled humorlessly, not sure how to end this awkward dance.

"Well, I'm sure I wasn't Jasper's first choice," I admitted, "but I am an old friend of Alice's, and Edward wasn't opposed to the idea." I shrugged, and Garrett appraised me in silence. Finally, he seemed somewhat satisfied.

"Okay, well, this room is stocked. Let me know if you need anything." He waited like he wanted to say more. I held up the folder containing the therapy plan.

"I'm all set," I confirmed, and he gave me a curt nod. We were interrupted then, by a loud greeting called across the empty gym.

"Hey, Garrett!" I turned to see Edward crossing the room at a slow jog. Lucy hovered near the door to the receptionist's booth, clearly hoping to watch him until the last possible second. I could sympathize with her. He was dressed in black track pants and an orange Astros t-shirt. He smirked at me, as he got closer; it was obvious that we matched. He nodded at me when he arrived at our location right outside the treatment room.

"Dr. Swan," he greeted. "Great minds apparently think alike." His eyes skimmed down my body, taking in my outfit. I felt my face flush. Garrett raised his eyebrows and seemed to want to say something, but I interrupted.

"Edward. Great, you're here. Let's get started," I declared cheerfully. I was sure he was messing with me, and a part of me wondered again if he was set on getting revenge. If so, he needn't bother; just being this close to him with no hope of ever truly having him was revenge enough in my book. I gestured for him to enter the room, and I smiled dismissively at Garrett. He gave me a skeptical look but turned to leave us alone. He wouldn't be here if he didn't have other clients this afternoon, so he had no choice but to go. I followed Edward into the room and closed the door behind us. It seemed to shrink immediately. I struggled for something appropriate to say.

"So, how's the therapy going so far? I'm sure Jasper's been putting you through the paces," I tried for nonchalance, but then I looked more closely at him. Edward's face had lost all its humor and teasing. He appeared more serious and more like the guy I'd seen give interviews on ESPN. I didn't like getting his professional side, even though Carlisle had made it clear that that was all I should be seeing.

"You're right," he agreed mechanically. "Jasper is working me hard. I appreciate you filling in for him. He'd come in at midnight on a Saturday if I let him. He's a good friend." His eyes lifted and met mine. We stared at each other for a few uncomfortable moments. Even though they weren't exactly friendly, I reveled in the luxury of examining his emerald eyes again. He was the one to shift away, and I was briefly embarrassed by what he may have glimpsed in my own eyes.

"Why don't we go ahead and get started on the routine?" I asked, breaking the awkwardness. He nodded silently, and I pulled out the handout Jasper had created. Edward was more familiar than I was by now, and he reached for one of the tension bands hanging from the rack without comment.

We worked steadily for almost forty-five minutes without much conversation. Edward was dedicated and probably could do this on his own. I only had to correct his form and remind him to use the full range of motion a couple of times. I had to stand back from him to resist the temptation of touching his skin. When he needed correction on his pronation/supination exercise, I gave in and allowed myself to run my fingers along his forearm. I was rewarded with the familiar electric shock. He flinched, and our eyes met.

"Thanks, Bella," he said in a subdued voice when we were done. I frowned and shook my head.

"No thanks necessary. I'm a Houstonian. I want the Astros to win. This was purely selfish," I tried to joke to break up the tension. It worked, and he cracked a smile.

"For love of city," he quipped, and I nodded enthusiastically. We smiled at each other for several moments. "You'll probably deserve some good tickets after all of this. I think I have enough clout to work that out," he finally said. My heart sank. Free tickets were the furthest thought from my mind.

"No, I don't need tickets," I insisted. Then, something occurred to me.

"Edward, you just need to be able to pitch," I blurted. He tilted his head and gave me an odd look.

"Yes," he drawled slowly. "That is my job. I'm a Major League pitcher," he told me patiently with purposeful condescension. His lazy teasing took me straight back to when we first met. I half-heartedly swiped his right bicep, the good side. My fingers tingled where I met his skin again. He flinched again. Bad idea, I decided, and clutched my hands in my lap to keep me good.

"No, that's not what I meant," I responded with a small laugh. "I just meant that you don't have to bat anymore. Now that the Astros have joined the American League, you have the designated hitter." He couldn't stop the grin that grew on his lips after that statement. Then, he shook his head in fake dismay.

"What would your dad think?" he asked playfully. I felt a sharp pain in my chest at the mention of my father. I didn't talk about him often, and Edward may have been the last person I really confided in about him. I was surprised he remembered our conversations in such detail. I mean, I remembered them, but I figured anything I'd said to him had been disregarded a long time ago. He must have seen my face change because he followed his flippant remark quickly.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't mean to upset you," he responded immediately.

"No, no, I'm fine. I was just surprised you remembered that story," I told him.

"You still keep things close to the vest, huh, Bella?" he asked rhetorically. He reached out tentatively and brushed my cheek with the fingers of his right hand. I was shocked and took in a surprised breath. He withdrew his hand as if it had been burned and looked immediately sorry for his action. I tried to keep my disappointment at the loss of contact with him as hidden as possible. I took a subtle step back and sat down on the stool I'd been using. Edward remained seated on the therapy table, watching me closely.

"Thanks for a great session, Edward," I said to distract myself. He smiled amusedly.

"That's my line, Bella. You're the one who gave up your time," he corrected, his eyes intense.

"Yes, well, Houstonian," I responded inarticulately, gesturing at myself, and we both had to laugh.

"I should go," he finally said, and I nodded reluctantly. We had been getting along so well, some of that old rapport reappearing. I wasn't ready to let it go. I stood and indicated that I'd walk him out.

"So, I guess you work out at the team gym at the ballpark on the days you don't come here. You probably have team trainers and the like," I hazarded. His head was down, and he had his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Yeah. The rest of the team left for Florida, though. So I have the place to myself," he responded not looking at me. Our tentative rapport seemed only to exist inside the treatment room because his reticence had returned as we made our way down the hospital's main hallway to the front entrance. Once in the parking lot, Edward stopped next to a flashy silver Corvette.

"This is me," he said still not making real eye contact. I ran my hand over the hood lightly.

"No need for your mom's hand-me-downs anymore, huh?" I asked rhetorically. That earned me a hint of a real smile and half a laugh.

"No, I can afford to buy my own cars nowadays," he admitted. "How about you? Do you still drive that old BMW?" I shook my head.

"No, I bought myself a Honda Civic a few years ago. I've been completely on my own ever since I graduated and started earning a paycheck," I told him with pride.

"Good for you," he replied with a hint of some emotion I couldn't quite define. "But you're going to be getting a very big raise here pretty soon, right?" He leaned against his car, and I was so happy that he was still talking to me. I eagerly prolonged the conversation.

"Well, yeah, of course," I attempted to sound modest, but I was definitely looking forward to graduating.

"What are you going to do with it?" he asked curiously. "New car? New house? Maybe a big trip around the world?" I frowned a little bit, sorry that I didn't have a more interesting answer.

"Well, I have to secure a job first. There's an opening at Baylor, but they won't finalize the hiring until April. I have an interview here at Texas Orthopedics coming up," I gestured to the hospital behind us, and Edward nodded appraisingly. "I also have some interviews out of town, but I really want the Baylor job." I said the last a bit fervently, and it seemed like Edward got tense, although I couldn't figure out why.

"Well, good luck with that," he said vaguely. "See you next week." Then, he tapped the roof of his car and climbed inside. I watched his car turn onto Fannin Street and disappear out of sight before I made my way to my own car.

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During the short drive back to my apartment, I decided to return Alice's and Rosalie's calls from yesterday. I debated whom to contact first. I settled on Alice mostly because I felt I owed it to her professionally to report on my session with Edward. She answered on the second ring.

"Hi, Bella, I was just thinking about you," she greeted. "How did things go at the gym today? Sorry I wasn't there. I tried to call yesterday to warn you. Jasper and I usually take Sunday and Monday off together, but I wasn't sure if you'd know that." I was surprised that she didn't sound more reproachful. The Alice who I remembered would not have hesitated to lay on the guilt trip.

"That's what I figured," I told her. "Things went well. Edward is obviously dedicated and already very familiar with the routine. He probably didn't need me. I only had to intervene twice." My thoughts went to the way Edward's forearm felt under my fingertips. I had to swallow hard to keep my brain on task. Alice was silent for a beat.

"I'm sure having someone there for the moral support was reassuring," she finally said tentatively. I sighed and addressed the elephant in the room.

"Listen, Alice, I'm sorry about Rosalie the other day. She's very blunt, and she likes to bend the rest of the world to her will," I apologized.

"But she's loyal, and probably usually right," Alice finished to my surprise.

"Uh, yeah," I mumbled. Alice laughed.

"I liked her. Don't worry. I've given a lot of thought to what she said," she paused, and it seemed uncomfortable. "You know," she began again, "you never really told me exactly what happened with Edward when you broke up. I heard a very generalized version from Jasper. After to talking with you and Rosalie this weekend, I'm wondering if I know the whole story. And that makes me feel really shitty," she declared. "Jasper is seriously in the doghouse right now. I'm hoping you can trust me enough at some point to tell me what you told Rosalie," she said hopefully. "But, you probably don't want to rehash it right now."

"No, I don't," I assured her. She laughed again.

"OK, I'll talk to you soon. Maybe we can do something just the two of us," she suggested. I heartily agreed. We hung up, and I checked the time. It was probably still too early to call Rosalie. They had probably just started dinner, bath, and bedtime routine. Since I was already dressed for it, I hit the gym for my own workout. I was pleased to find an unexpired pre-prepared pasta bowl from Whole Foods in my refrigerator and proceeded to heat that up. I watched the news while I ate my dinner off a tray on my coffee table.

I checked the time again when I was done. I knew I really shouldn't bother the McCartys before 8 pm. My eyes slid to my laptop lying on my dining room table. I was struck by the irony that I was not using my furniture for the proper purpose. I still lived like a college kid. Finally, curiosity got the better of me.

I opened my computer and pulled up Google. I had not allowed myself to do this for years, but seeing Edward again had jarred loose my self-control. I was just seeking information to help me deal with being near him; that's how I justified my actions. I typed "Edward Masen" into the search engine.

His Wikipedia page was the first on the list. The photograph was one of him in his Atlanta Braves uniform. It obviously hadn't been updated. I clicked on it furtively even though I was alone in my apartment on my personal computer. The information was not new to me. It highlighted his major career stats and highlights, including the fact that he had been a Cy Young finalist in 2012. I remembered that acutely.

The next part of the page listed his prior teams and actually did show that he had been traded to the Astros but was on the Disabled List. Maybe he hadn't had a chance to be photographed in his new Astros uniform, I mused. Several bullets that could be expanded were below that information. One detailed his amateur career at Bellaire High School and Rice and another detailed his professional career. I quickly perused them, not getting any new information just a sick satisfaction that came with reading about him. The final bullet gave me pause.

"Personal Life," it was named. I held my breath and clicked on it. The entry was blessedly short, only two paragraphs and a final single sentence. I read it carefully. It mostly contained information about Edward's parents, since his father was a well-known surgeon, and probably considered a public figure. The final sentence was what made me feel slightly ill.

"Masen previously dated Victoria Turner, daughter of the Atlanta media mogul. After a brief engagement, their relationship ended early in the 2013 season."

Edward had been engaged? The idea made me lightheaded, and I leaned back from the table and closed my eyes. Of course, I'd always known he would move on, but the thought had been a general impression not specific like this was. But it had ended. I wondered why. Of course, I could never ask him about it, since I'd have to admit that I googled him like a stalker.

The relationship had never made the major gossip circuit because I'd never heard of it. I hadn't looked him up or kept tabs on him after he made the Atlanta squad. I'd just watched a lot of Atlanta games. On the Turner Broadcasting System channel. Ugh!

All shreds of dignity were gone, so I scrolled down the rest of the search returns. One was the Houston Astros page, and another was .com reference. The rest were just links to various sports networks and newspaper articles about the trade. There were a few fan sites at the bottom, but I didn't think my heart could take looking at those. Instead, I clicked on 'Images' at the top of the Google page.

There were probably hundreds of images that came up. Most of them were photos taken during games with him either on the pitcher's mound or in the dugout wearing his team jacket and warming his arm. I saw his Atlanta Braves team photo and a couple of him horsing around in the locker room. His Sports Illustrated and Men's Health covers were there. I had those magazines from last year hidden in a stack of Journal of Bone and Joint Surgery issues under my bed.

I continued to scroll and recognized a picture of Edward with his father standing on the green grass of an unidentifiable ball field. I couldn't tell where it was, but I thought it must have been in Lynchburg or Mississippi when Edward was still in the Minors. They had their arms around each other and were both smiling widely. Dr. Masen looked so proud.

Below that photo was one of Edward wearing a suit standing next to a statuesque redhead in a tight emerald green dress. One of his arms was behind her, and they were standing close together. Her face was slightly turned, looking at Edward, while he was directly facing the camera. His expression was serious, but hers was soft.

I'd gone this far, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to go all the way. I entered the name 'Victoria Turner' in the search field. The results came back, and I was able to confirm that she was the same girl in the photo I'd just seen. I didn't find much information on her. She graduated from Emory University, and she worked for Turner Broadcasting. Her father was a well-known Braves fan, so I figured that she had met Edward at a game.

My guilt got the best of me then, and I decided I had snooped enough. I worried I'd discovered too much and wouldn't be able to act normally when I saw Edward again next week. Not that I acted normally around him today either, I realized wryly.

I checked the time. It was after 8 o'clock, but I really didn't feel like talking to Rosalie now. I would return her call later this week. It was still early, but I decided to go to bed. I took a quick shower and climbed in bed, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. I leaned back over and turned it back on almost immediately. With great shame, I slid out of bed and reached underneath it. I pulled my stack of magazines out and shuffled through until I found Edward's Sports Illustrated cover.

He was posed with his trademark smirk, wearing his Atlanta Braves uniform and holding a ball and glove. It had been taken just after the 2013 season started, and he'd been touted as a favorite to win the Cy. I'd just seen the image on my computer screen, but there was something about being able to hold the real thing. I clutched the magazine to my chest and got back in bed. I stared at Edward's face for a while, tracing a finger over his playful expression.

Finally, I laid the magazine on the bedside table and turned out the light. Enough melodrama for tonight. I'd be strong again tomorrow.

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Ted Turner is an international media mogul who got his start in Atlanta and still considers it home. He has been an owner of the Atlanta Braves since before they were any good. As a fellow Georgian from a modest background, I have to admire Ted Turner's success even though I consider his ex-wife Jane Fonda to be one of the scum of the earth. Please google it if you don't understand why I might think that. I don't want to discuss it here.

Anyway, I have not used Ted Turner's name in this story, but I've used his general idea to create an unnamed character. Victoria Turner is the daughter of a media mogul, but she is not the daughter of the Braves' owner. That would be just too weird. So this is probably all more than you wanted to know but I do like to tie everything to real life. As you know .


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Not much to say this week. Most are still anti-Kate/Jasper/Edward. Let's see how the therapy goes this week…

Thanks to the ladies at TLS for recommending Designated Hitter on their blog last week!

Also, thanks to my pre-reader, Cejsmom.

**Chapter 15**

Esme Platt took matters into her own hands. It turned out she was no shrinking violet. She called Carlisle later that week and asked him out to dinner. He, of course, politely declined explaining that it was inappropriate for him to date one of his patients. So, she promptly fired him. And she didn't make an appointment to follow up with Dr. Alistair either. She left Baylor all together, despite her father's affiliation with the institution.

Of course, I didn't hear any of this from Carlisle. I learned about it when she showed up on Friday morning in the middle of clinic to request copies of her records and MRI films in person. Carlisle and I were busy seeing patients, and at first, I didn't know she was there. But when I paused by the nurses' station to fill out a work excuse for someone, I overheard Tanya muttering angrily about it to Irina, one of the other nurses. I wondered how she got her information but knew that Tanya had her ways and was likely not wrong.

I craned my neck and saw Esme on the waiting room side of the counter. She was dressed chicly once again, wearing a green shift dress and cowboy boots. Several long necklaces were draped around her neck, and she fiddled with one while she talked to the receptionist. She caught sight of me and smiled in my direction. It was full of mischief, so I made my way around to speak to her.

"Miss Platt, are you leaving us?" I asked her with a grin. She grinned back.

"Dr. Swan, it turns out I have a conflict of interest with this facility. So, I'm headed over to Memorial Hermann to continue my care. I hear they are almost as good." She winked at me. I played along.

"Well, I wish you luck then. Are we getting your record together for you to take with you?" I asked. She nodded.

"I was hoping to see Dr. Cullen and tell him thank you again," she said and leveled me a shrewd gaze. I rolled my eyes.

"I'll see if he's available, but I'm sure you'll understand if he's busy with patients," I replied, giving her a warning. I was pretty sure this situation would have Carlisle petrified.

"Of course," she answered smoothly. "But since we're no longer working together, I'd love it if you'd call me Esme," she requested. I was flattered. She reminded me a bit of Rosalie, and I wondered if we could be friends even if Carlisle screwed things up.

"Esme," I emphasized, "I'll go see if Carlisle is available." My use of his first name was deliberate and made her smile wider. I returned to the exam room hallway and waited for him to emerge from one of the rooms. I didn't have to wait long, and he eyed me warily when he saw my shit-eating grin.

"Carlisle, Miss Platt is here to collect her record to take with her to Memorial Hermann. She wondered if you were available for a moment so she could thank you again," I tried to keep the giggle out of my voice. He glared at me.

"Bella, this whole thing is unprofessional. We have patients to see, and I don't think it's wise for me to speak with Miss Platt," he admonished. I rolled my eyes.

"Fine, I'll tell her," I retorted. I made my way back up front.

"Esme, he's busy," I told her gently. Her face fell but she nodded with understanding.

"It's fine, Dr. Swan," she said more subdued than before. I felt compelled to say more.

"Esme, it's Bella. And Carlisle is worth a little effort," I told her. This statement made her smile return. I was sure he'd get over himself if given a little time. He wasn't that attached to Siobahn.

"Thanks," she said squeezing my hand as we shook. "We should get together some time," she ventured, and I nodded heartily in agreement. Then, the receptionist returned with Esme's record in a large manila envelope. She handed it over, and Esme and I waved good-bye. I returned to the task at hand.

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My penance for not returning Rosalie's call sooner was a night on the town. She wanted to hit the swanky bars downtown and make it a girl's night. Her friend Vera, who was one of the plastics residents two years behind her, had also been recruited. Emmett had agreed to stay home with Emma like the dear, sweet husband he was. Vera was also single and "ready to mingle." Her words. I figured, at the very least, the evening would distract me from thoughts of Edward. Rosalie probably had the same idea.

So, the three of us met up at Rosalie and Emmett's apartment not far from mine in Condoland. Rosalie had done some research and picked out the hottest spots for us to try. Thank goodness Rosalie wasn't a big fan of nightclubs and dancing, another thing we had in common.

Vera was wearing a short, extremely tight black dress with spiked heels. It complimented her almost black hair and eyes and olive, Latin American skin perfectly. I was sure she'd get some action tonight, and I gave her a big thumbs-up when I saw her. She smiled widely.

"Ay, Bella, you look good, too, Chica," she returned the compliment, looking over my ensemble. I was wearing a lacy red top that was far too low cut; it was something Rosalie had forced me to buy not that long ago. I paired it with black skinny pants and strappy black heels with tough looking studs.

"Thanks, Vera," I told her. We weren't close, but we had hung out with Rosalie a number of times together. Emmett had answered the door, and the two of us were cooling our heels in the living room. It was already 9 pm, and I was used to being in bed by now, but Rosalie had insisted that we do it up right. Emma was already in bed, and Emmett was solemnly watching Tulane, his alma mater, getting destroyed in a basketball game.

Rosalie emerged from her bedroom just then wearing a sapphire colored dress that was essentially backless. It hugged her curves dangerously, and she'd curled and teased her blond hair into a gigantic mane. Emmett stared at her with a mixture of lust and chagrin, but to his credit, he said nothing and just wished her a good night. We climbed into a cab.

Our first stop was a place called Lei Low Bar. It was in a weird strip mall in the Heights, and I worried until we got inside. The patrons were dressed to the nines, but it was actually a pretty casual tiki bar. It was already pretty crowded, and we managed to wedge our way up to the bar. Vera ordered some ridiculous rum drink that arrived flaming. She beamed at all the attention she got. I went with the standard Cuba Libre, and Rosalie just drank her ridiculously expensive rum straight up.

Two well-dressed guys approached us, and both Rosalie and Vera perked up. One was blonde, and the other had dark hair but pale skin and blue eyes. They smiled politely as they joined us, although it was far too loud to speak as a group. Their eyes skimmed over us, probably trying to decide which girl to pursue. The dark haired guy honed in on Rosalie, and I had to stifle a giggle. It wouldn't be long before she shot him down and sent him on his way.

The blonde sidled up to Vera, and she simpered and started flirting back outrageously. I wasn't offended at being odd woman out. I was used to it. After talking to Rosalie for only a few minutes, the dark-haired guy headed over to me.

"Your friend Rosalie is gorgeous," he shouted in my ear. "It's too bad she's married." I stared at him incredulously.

"Really? Are you trying to pick me up by implying I'm not as attractive as my friend?" I shouted back in his ear. His smile slid right off his face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offense," he yelled. I gave him a sickly fake smile.

"None taken. Now leave me alone," I spit at him. He looked unsure and a bit taken aback. Rosalie recognized his expression and started trying to push her way past Vera and the blonde guy to get to us. But before she could succeed, the dark-haired guy elbowed the blonde guy and nodded toward the back of the bar. The blonde guy looked like he wanted to argue since he was obviously getting along very well with Vera, but he finally acquiesced. He nodded once toward Vera and disappeared into the crowd with his dark-haired friend. The three of us were left standing there together. Vera frowned at me.

"What happened?" she yelled. I shrugged with a scowl. Rosalie grabbed my arm and started towing me toward the front door. Vera followed us. Once we were out on the sidewalk, they rounded on me.

"Don't look at me," I told them with a curl of my lip. I replayed the conversation I'd had with Don Juan. They both gaped at me open-mouthed when I was done.

"God, Bella, I'm so sorry," Rosalie told me with obvious sincerity. Even Vera seemed all right with losing her sure thing hook-up. We decided to go to another bar and hailed another cab. Rosalie kept glancing at me in concern, and it was seriously annoying. She didn't need to worry. I couldn't feel worse than I already did about the Edward situation. The night out had done nothing to curb my incessant thoughts of him.

While in the cab, I thought about why I constantly found myself in situations like that, why I was always odd-woman out. It wasn't that I was less attractive than my friends; I was self-aware enough to realize that. I must give off some kind of "don't approach me" vibe. My face must be constantly arranged in a serious expression. I recalled the night I met Edward. Why had he approached me and persisted even when I tried to blow him off? What had been difference between us? If I could figure that out, then maybe I could break this cycle.

We arrived at Ballenger in midtown a short ride later. It was a swanky speak-easy style bar, and our outfits were much more in line with the décor. We were able to commandeer a high top table and ordered drinks from a barmaid. I ordered a glass of single malt because it was the quickest way to a buzz that would not result in a hangover in my experience. Rosalie quickly offered to pay for it, and I accepted without arguing. She owed me. Rosalie and Vera switched to creative tequila cocktails, something I'm quite sure would never have been served in an actual speakeasy.

A table of four guys our age with ebony crispy gelled hair, dark skin, and more jewelry than the rest of us combined sent over some drinks, so we joined them. They were nice enough, as well as friendly and admiring. Vera was having a fantastic time flirting with them all, but I already knew there would be no love connection for me tonight. So, I excused myself to the restroom.

I did my business and washed my hands at the sink. I paused longer than necessary in front of the mirror, and another girl approached the sink next to mine. I was staring at my face unseeingly, and thinking about Edward, when she spoke to me.

"Bella Swan?" Her use of my name caused me to turn to face her. It took me a second, but I recognized her. She was petite but curvy, wearing a black top with dark fitted jeans and boots. Her dark hair was twisted into a bun, and she had accessorized with enormous gold earrings. Her skin was clear and the color of latte.

"Leah Black!" I exclaimed, and she smiled back, leaning forward to give me a quick hug. "How are you? What are you doing in Houston?" I inquired.

"We live in Houston," she answered with some confusion. "Did you not know that? I figured you would have run into Jacob at some point," she mused. I shook my head.

"No, last I heard, Jake took a job in Tulsa after he graduated," I admitted. Leah had married Jacob Black about a year after I'd first met him. We had socialized superficially during residency since Jake had been a chief when I was a second year resident.

Things had been awkward between us after the big blow up with Edward. Jake had apologized profusely when he heard that his conversation with Edward had led to our break up. He had been obviously confused by the whole thing, but I had never felt like explaining it to him. His brother, Sam, had probably filled him in, but I hadn't really cared too much at the time. We never spoke of it again, but I'd been friendly with Leah at the department events we'd been thrown together in attending.

"Yeah, we were up there for two years, the terms of his original contract, but it was too far from home, you know? Jake heard of an opening at Texas Orthopedic Hospital and applied for it. We've been back for almost a year now. I guess you knew he did a Joint fellowship?" she asked. I nodded distractedly.

"Wow, Leah, I had no idea y'all were back," I told her. "I was invited to interview for a job at TOH, but I haven't set anything up yet." She lit up and clasped her hands in front of her.

"Oh, Bella, you'd love it there. Jake always thought so highly of you. It'd be so great if you guys could work together again," she exclaimed. Then, her brow crinkled. "Are you in a fellowship?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm doing Sports at Baylor," I replied. She nodded in understanding.

"Okay, so this would be your first position. Anyway, I think you'd be a good fit. Definitely, set something up soon," she urged. I told her I would, and I mentally put it on my to-do list. It could be a good backup in case the Baylor gig fell through, even though I was pretty sure it wouldn't. I'd worked so hard for my ultimate goal. Just then, three dark-haired girls, two petite and one fairly tall, piled into the ladies room with us. They were all giggling but stopped short when they saw Leah and I standing together.

"Oh, hey, Leah, we were wondering if you'd fallen in," one of the smaller girls laughed. The tall one was eyeing me speculatively.

"Hey, y'all, this is Bella Swan," Leah politely introduced me to her companions. "She did residency with Jacob. Bella, this is Rebecca and Rachel, Jacob's sisters," she gestured toward the two short girls. "And this is Emily, our sister-in-law," she motioned to the tall girl. I saw recognition dawn in her eyes, and I'm sure she saw the same thing in mine.

"Yes, Bella and I have met," Emily said. But she smiled at me. Leah looked confused.

"We knew each other at Rice," I explained vaguely. Emily nodded at me. Leah perked back up.

"Well, Bella, give me your phone," she demanded, and I handed it over. She typed for a few seconds. "I put in my number and Jacob's, so you have no excuse not to call us. I'll cross my fingers for you at TOH," she concluded. I promised I'd take care of it soon, and the four tipsy girls left me alone in the restroom. I felt a little guilty since I really had no interest in any job other than the Baylor one. But I couldn't tell Leah that; it would just insult her husband.

My past was coming back to haunt me, that was for sure. I took one last look in the mirror and left to return to Rosalie and Vera. Rosalie was obviously annoyed when I approached the table. She was alone with two of the guys, who I remembered were named Vahid and Wally. Vera and the two other guys were nowhere to be found. But they all smiled and seemed pleased to welcome me back, especially Vahid. He kept patting my hand where it rested on the tabletop, even though I kept moving it out of his reach. The four of us chatted for a while, and Rosalie finally leaned towards me.

"Are you all right?" she asked with a worried look. I nodded with the fake smile I'd been wearing still firmly plastered on my face. "Do you want to go?" she persisted. I nodded again. We bid the guys good night, and Vahid asked me for my number. I gave it to him in order to avoid a scene, but I knew I'd never answer his calls.

Once we were in the cab, headed back towards Condoland, Rosalie cleared her throat. I already knew what she was going to say, and I sighed.

"Bella, I'm really sorry about tonight. I was hoping that you'd have fun, maybe even meet someone," she apologized. Her face crumpled. "I just want you to move forward. You've been stuck for so long. I thought that if I could get you out there, then maybe you'd either see that Edward was a silly pipe dream nowhere near good enough for you or else that you need to get off your ass and work for that." She shook her head, as if the motion could clear her misguided intentions. I reached over and hooked my arm around her neck and leaned my head against her poofy, blonde temple.

"Rosalie, you're a good friend," I told her sincerely. She scoffed.

"I think I just forced you into one of the worst nights in your recent memory," she bemoaned. I couldn't disagree, but her heart was in the right place. And I didn't know many people right now that earned that kind of praise.

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I made my way through our Monday morning cases in the OR with impatience. I was better able to compartmentalize and less distracted, but I was still anxious for the day to end so I could see Edward again. The tantalizing idea of a friendship with him was too strong, and I was unable to guard my heart the way I once had. Carlisle was uncharacteristically short with the staff, and our conversation was minimal. I wondered what was going on with him.

I made it to Whitlock and Associates with about five minutes to spare, and I was surprised to find Edward already in the waiting area. His back was to the door, and he was standing with a middle-aged man sporting a paunch who was taking a selfie of them together. They both turned when they heard the door open, and the man shook Edward's hand heartily, moving on to speak to Lucy at the desk. Edward shook his head and looked down sheepishly when our eyes met. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand with seeming embarrassment.

"Always making time for your fans, I see," I greeted him with a smile.

"Well, I had to do something to fill my time," he retorted, standing up to his full height and meeting my eyes with a gleam in his. "I thought a person was late if they weren't fifteen minutes early. Didn't you tell me that once?" I was surprised that he referenced the past so easily, but I loved his teasing tone so I went with it.

"That I did," I acknowledged. "Touche. I guess we should get to work." He opened the door leading from the lobby to the gym and gestured for me to go ahead of him. Lucy watched our interaction curiously. Garrett and the guy I assumed was Peter were both with clients. Garrett called to us from across the room.

"You guys are in Room 3 again," he said motioning toward the open door of the room we had used at the last session. We both waved back at him, although I doubted he'd been greeting me. We entered the room and both smiled at each other as we took our respective places. I pulled out my therapy plan for reference, and we got started without another word. We worked in a comfortable silence, but I was trying to think of conversation topics for when we were done. I had a sudden horrifying thought.

"Edward!" I exclaimed, and he stopped mid-exercise to stare at me with alarm. I laughed uneasily and apologized.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, but I just thought of something." I said hastily. He finished the final two repetitions of the current motion and smirked at me.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense, Swan. You know I have no idea what goes on inside that brain of yours." His statement wasn't unkind, but I heard the edge to it, and the dig was fair. I shook my head.

"Sorry. I just wondered why we are doing this here. Surely, it would be more convenient for you to work out at Minute Maid? The facilities have to be state of the art, and you wouldn't have to worry about selfies in the waiting area," I told him. Then, I squinted and asked a question I surely had not right to ask. "Where do you live, anyway?" He barked out a laugh, but it was incredulous not amused. I'd gone too far.

"Damn, Bella, maybe you could benefit from some media training," he told me, and I laughed nervously. So, I was awkward in my personal life. That was definitely not news to him. He went on.

"To answer your first question, though, I insisted on meeting here in order to keep Jasper from putting himself out. This is a small firm, and he would have to cut appointments in order to come all the way down to the ballpark. I figured this was more convenient for you, too, since you're just coming from down the street. But, you're right, the facilities are just as good, if not better at Minute Maid." This speech had been made with him staring at his hands and the tension band he was holding. At the end, he looked up.

"Would you like to meet at the park next week? I could give you a tour afterwards," he offered. My heart leapt. I couldn't think of anything better than a tour of the Astros stadium led by Edward. On a quiet Monday afternoon with the rest of the team in Florida for spring training, we'd have the place to ourselves. But, I did not have a right to ask him for any favors.

"Edward, what is most convenient for you?" I stressed. An odd look crossed his face, and he shook his head to clear it.

"It is more convenient for me to meet at the park," he finally admitted. "And to answer your second question, I live in one of those new high rises in walking distance of the park. And even though, I have some commitments to the team, I tend to have a lot of free time on my hands right now." He spoke this last part drily, and I could tell he was more worried about his elbow than he let on.

"Hey, we're going to get you better," I told him softly, catching his eye. What I saw there was a vulnerability I hadn't seen from him since I'd known him before. It made it hard to catch my breath with him looking at me that way. He nodded to indicate that he'd heard me, but he didn't say anything. He picked back up his band and resumed the routine. We worked in silence for a while. I still didn't know where we stood when he finished several minutes later.

"So…" I drew the word out uncomfortably. He smiled slightly and looked at me.

"Yeah, we should decide what we're going to do about next week," he agreed. "I'd be proud to show you around the park. Have you still not been to a game there?" I was touched again that he seemed to remember all I'd told him about my father.

"No, I have never been inside Minute Maid Park," I confirmed. He shook his head as if it was a travesty. "I know, I know," I agreed. "But I don't really have any friends interested in baseball, other than Emmett, and he's a Rangers fan." Edward gasped in mock disgust and clutched his chest. Then, he leveled an appraising glance my way.

"Who is Emmett?" he asked carefully. I wrinkled my brow, surprised by his line of questioning.

"Emmett is my friend Rosalie's husband. He's a fellow at Baylor in a different subspecialty," I explained. Edward nodded in understanding.

"And he's obviously deranged," he concluded seriously. I giggled but agreed.

"So, Rosalie is the girl who had lunch with you and Alice last week," he hazarded, and I blanched to think that Alice had relayed that conversation to Jasper and then to Edward. I felt stupid for trusting her. Edward obviously read my expression.

"Relax, I don't know anything about the outing. Jasper just said that he was worried about Alice going out with you two, but he told me later that Alice had fun," he reassured me. I was surprised by that assessment. If that's really all Alice told Jasper, then she really was serious about her neutrality.

"I'm sorry I'm such a point of contention for you and Jasper. And Kate, too for that matter. By the way, I know she's with Garrett. I don't appreciate being ganged up on," I told him trying for a playful tone and mock stern expression, though I really was annoyed by Kate and what I considered childishness. He shook his head to dismiss my concerns.

"I told her that was a really stupid thing to do. I'm sorry I teased you about it at your apartment, and I should have stopped her when she was yelling at you. She doesn't have all the facts," he looked guilty when he said that, and I wondered what he could possibly mean. "

"You're not a point of contention. Jasper just worries about me. I haven't always handled the fame and attention well. Kate was there when things were…well, not so good. Now that we are…I'll talk to them, I promise," he explained evasively. I wished I knew what he'd been going to say. I hadn't turned up anything untoward in my google-fest. I desperately wanted to ask about his former fiancée, but I raised my eyebrows instead. He continued. "You can see how this could be awkward or uncomfortable," he said, gesturing between the two of us. Goosebumps erupted on my skin. Were we going to have this conversation now? I nodded with my eyes fixed on his.

"So, I don't want to get in the way if you Alice want to rekindle your friendship. I always felt bad that you guys drifted apart," he told me sincerely. "I can deal with Jasper and Kate. There will be no more ganging up." He smiled confidently, and it seemed we were not going to tread into more fraught territory. I let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks," I said simply. "I'm hoping to spend more time with Alice. I've missed her." I leveled an intense gaze at him, hoping he'd see that she was not the only one I'd missed. But I don't think he absorbed the significance of my statement. He cleared his throat.

"So, we're on for next Monday at Minute Maid, then. It's high time that you got a look inside the place. I'll make sure you get tickets to a Rangers game this season. You can go with Emmett and Rosalie. And whoever else you'd like to bring," he told me stiffly. My heart beat faster. Was he really interested in my love life? That had to be a good sign, right? I tried to keep the hope out of my voice and sound calm.

"Thanks for showing me around. We'll talk about the tickets later. I'm a Houstonian, first, remember?" I told him gently. He smiled softly, and our eyes met. We held each other's gaze for a bit longer than normal. We both realized it at the same time and looked way.

"So next Monday at Minute Maid Park," I finally said.

"Yeah," he responded slowly and appeared to be thinking hard. "I believe it will work best if you just ride with me. Dealing with security can be tricky. I'll pick you up from Baylor, and we can drive straight to the park," he told me. I was definitely concerned about being seen getting in the car with my patient, after all that Carlisle had said, but I didn't want to make things worse.

"Sure, that sounds great," I agreed. "My finish time isn't set, you know?" He shrugged.

"Just text me, and I'll be there in about twenty minutes," he sounded nonchalant.

"As long as it's not too inconvenient for you to come and get me," I hedged. He mocked a frown.

"Bella, you're going to give me a complex. You know I don't handle rejection well," he teased. I sucked in a breath at that and stared at him wide-eyed. He appeared to be chagrinned by his statement, too. We stood there awkwardly for a beat.

"Sorry," he finally muttered. "Some things just aren't joke material." I nodded in agreement but let the subject drop as it seemed that's what he was hoping I'd do.

"So, I'll text you on Monday," I told him finally. He nodded, his expression tighter than it had been. I was sad, our banter and rapport seemed to have been wrecked.

"I'll look forward to it," he said without meeting my eyes. We walked out together again, but this time, he got straight into his car and didn't look back.

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See you next Friday for a trip to Minute Maid Park…

EG


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Wow, I can't believe I made it to 987 reviews! Not in my wildest dreams did I ever think that many kind people would leave me words of encouragement. Thank you! I'm pretty sure I'll break 1000 after this chapter. I predict that quite a few of you may have some things to get of your chest…

Thanks again to my pre-reader, Cejsmom.

Chapter 16

True to my word, on Tuesday, I contacted Dr. Ateara, the Chief of Staff for Texas Orthopedic Hospital. His secretary, Claire, seemed excited to hear from me and urged me to schedule a time for my interview right away.

"Dr. Swan, we've been really hoping to hear from you. You come highly recommended," she told me flatteringly. I figured she was referring to Jacob, and I felt a surge of fondness for my old friend.

"Well, I've been working with a client receiving his therapy at Whitlock and Associates, and I'm very impressed with your facility," I told her honestly. She let out a slightly unprofessional sound that bordered on a squeal.

"So, we'll see you next Wednesday evening around 5 pm," she confirmed. I assured her, that I looked forward to it.

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Carlisle's ill temper continued into the week. On Friday, he went out of his way to remind me that he and Siobahn were flying to New Orleans that night for the weekend. That's when I realized he was annoyed with me over the Esme Platt situation and trying to make a point. He succeeded but not the way he intended.

I happened to know that Carlisle hated New Orleans and crowds in general. Siobahn knew it too, but she was constantly forcing Carlisle to do things her way. The circumstances were never reversed. A colleague had given him box tickets to the opera last season, and he had been so excited to go, but Siobahn had refused. Rosalie and I had ended up in the seats instead.

The thought of stuffy, timid Carlisle on Bourbon Street, wincing every time someone bumped into him and carefully stepping over rancid puddles, made me more determined than ever not to end up like him. My life needed a major makeover, and I would start by seeking closure with Edward. I hoped by the end of our therapy sessions we could actually discuss what happened all those years ago.

The weekend was consumed by my faculty call at Ben Taub on Saturday. We were busy overnight, actually going to the OR twice. The senior resident did a superb job on an infected knee joint wash out, but I had to take over and do most of the open tibia fracture repair. I was concerned that he was a little behind for this time of year. I made a mental note to mention it to the Residency Director.

I didn't get home until Sunday afternoon, and it was a struggle to stay awake until my regular bedtime. But I wanted to be fresh on Monday for my time in the OR and especially for my trip to Minute Maid Park. I texted Edward to make sure we were still on before I went to bed. It was a thrill to scroll through my contacts to his recently added name and actually send something to him. To be honest, I had scrolled through a number of times earlier in the week just to admire it there. Edward replied almost instantly.

"_Just text me when you're ready_," the message said. I stared at it for a while and considered sending something back, but I forced myself to go to bed instead. The sooner I was asleep, the sooner the next day would come.

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Carlisle seemed tired and distracted in the OR on Monday morning, no doubt from his weekend of forced debauchery. I pondered how he would look on a Monday morning after a weekend of doubles tennis at the Club with the Platt family. Tan and relaxed, I decided, and I felt sorry for him.

I benefitted from his sad state by being allowed to do the majority of all the cases. Since I was well prepared, I performed well, and he granted me a small smile when we were done. I knew we needed to discuss the tension between us, and I probably owed him an apology, but I was too anxious about seeing Edward again and vowed that I would do it the next day.

I was excited to spend time with Edward, but also a little nervous about being seen getting into his car. But, we weren't socializing, I reminded myself. This was strictly professional, and any VIP might offer up something like this tour as a thank you. While I knew that was all true, I also knew my feelings for him were not professional. But I would keep that to myself like I always did.

After Carlisle and I left the PACU for the final time, I returned quickly to the fellows' office and pulled out my phone. I had already decided to leave on my scrubs for the session and tour. That way security would have no doubt that I was a medical professional. I took a deep breath and texted Edward.

"_Finished in the OR. Ready whenever is convenient_," I wrote. He replied right away.

"_On my way. Employee entrance to McNair_," his message read. I was confused at first until I remembered that he had been ushered out that way after his initial visit at the Baylor clinic. I knew he said it would take him twenty minutes to get there, but I went to stand by the door immediately anyway.

Eighteen minutes later, a sleek, silver Corvette was smoothly pulling up in front of the door. I swallowed wrong and started to cough, when I saw it but pulled myself together as quickly as I could. I pushed the door open and jogged towards the idling car. I was surprised that Edward didn't stop and get out to open my door, but then I reminded myself that this was not a date but a business deal. He had no obligation towards the gallantness that I remembered.

I pulled the door open and slid onto the grey leather passenger seat and closed it behind me. A little bit breathless from my hurried movements, I turned toward him. He was wearing darkly tinted Under Armour sunglasses and smiled at me enigmatically before peeling away from the curb.

"Thanks for picking me up," I told him as he sped onto Cambridge before turning onto Holcomb and quickly onto Alameda. He relaxed after the last turn and chose the center lane. We began the drive downtown; I knew this street would turn into Crawford, which bordered the ballpark. He turned his attention away from the road and onto me.

"I should thank you," he disagreed with a lopsided grin, then changed the subject. "How was your morning in the operating room?" he asked with interest. I felt a rush of happiness that he still seemed to know how to speak to me about my work. Then, I felt regret considering how hard I worked to try and keep him from that ability. He must have seen my emotions run the gamut on my face because he immediately backpedaled.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to pry," he apologized and looked away form me. The grin was gone, and I wanted it back.

"No, it was fine. I'm sorry, I was just thinking about something else. You can pry," I insisted idiotically. I was rewarded with another sideways glance and half smile.

"I can pry?" he asked with mischief, and I giggled in response. Somehow, Edward had always brought out the giggler in me. He went on. "It's just hard to imagine you actually doing the surgeries yourself when I can remember you bragging about putting in two stitches," he added. I stiffened, surprised again that he was referencing the past so easily. But, he was probably trying to move on, too. Which explained his uneasiness and the comments from last week.

"Yeah, well, it's hard to imagine you as an All-Star and a Cy Young finalist, but that happened," I bantered. He chuckled.

"You're right. I guess there's a lot we don't know about each other these days." His words were casual, but they left me breathless. What did he mean by that?

We arrived at the ballpark then, and Edward whipped his fancy car onto Texas and back onto Hamilton in a flash. If he kept driving that way, he'd end up with ticket, no doubt. Maybe the Atlanta cops had been more lax. Edward pulled into a lot designated as the Diamond Lot but continued forward toward the looming stadium structure.

We reached a guard shack that watched over a small fenced in lot that bordered a restricted access area of the outside wall of the stadium. An enormous Asian man who could have doubled as a sumo wrestler sat inside the small structure. He smiled when he saw Edward.

"Mr. Masen, it's good to see you with a pretty lady," he greeted with wide smile. Edward grunted uncomfortably.

"Toshiro, this is my orthopedic surgeon," he gently rebuked the giant. "I'm going to give her a tour today," he explained. Toshiro was unconvinced.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Masen," he leaned into the open window to peer at me. "Doctor, you are a pretty lady," he repeated. I smiled and nodded at him, blushing with the compliment. He seemed satisfied and motioned for us to go on. The security arm lifted, and Edward drove on through.

It was obviously an employee lot. I figured the players probably shared with the executives. Edward drove forward and pulled into a spot in the front row, putting the car in park. He smiled at me briefly, and we turned away from each other to climb out of the car. He stood uncertainly by the hood, and I came around the back of the car to meet him. I noticed that the words "E. Masen" were painted on the back of the spot.

"Wow, you really have made it," I quipped as I joined him. "You've got your own spot in the front row at Minute Maid Park." He rolled his eyes, but I could see the tiny bit of pride there at my teasing.

"Every player has his own spot," he deflected. I continued to smile widely because I couldn't help myself. He gestured for me to precede him to a grey metal door in the brick outer wall of the stadium. He pulled out an electronic card and pulled it through the reader next to the door. It clicked, and he pulled it open, motioning for me to go ahead of him. We entered a concrete tunnel that gently sloped down in the low light.

"Well…I thought we could deal with business before pleasure," Edward ventured. He sounded nervous. I knew he meant that the therapy session would be the "business" and the tour would be the "pleasure," but his use of that word caused me to shiver. I had not forgotten how he could deliver on that promise. I didn't answer quickly enough, so he hurriedly went on. I hoped his mind hadn't gone where mine had.

"We can go ahead and take a look around the Clubhouse before we start on the session, since we'll be down there already, but I thought we could take our time looking around the park and the field afterward." He sounded hopeful, like he wanted me to enjoy myself, and it made my heart clench.

"Of course, you're the boss," I replied, and I heard his quick intake of breath. It confused me when he muttered under his breath before acknowledging me again.

"Great. Then, follow me, Bella," he instructed, and we continued down the concrete ramp. It didn't take us long to come to a flat area with elevator doors.

"That's the elevator to the executive levels," Edward explained. "The fourth and fifth floors of the Union Station structure house all those guys."

"Okay," I told him, but I wanted to keep him talking since he was walking a little too far ahead of me for my liking. "I've heard of some medical meetings being held in the Union Station building. Aren't there some conference rooms or something?" I asked. He paused and looked back at me, seeming pleased with my interest.

"Yes, some of the downtown businesses or other groups can rent those out. The rooms have lots of glass and a nice view of the skyline," he told me. Finally, the tunnel ended, and Edward swiped us into another room. This one was wide open with comfortable looking couches, chairs, and several flat screen TVs on the walls. I looked around curiously.

"This is the media room," Edward explained. I raised my eyebrows in question, so he smiled and went into more detail. "It's kind of a waiting area for the Clubhouse. Mainly, this is where the reporters will wait after a game. Or anyone else, for that matter, that needs to see a player before he's done in the locker room." I examined the room closely; it was very nice and comfortable.

"C'mon," Edward motioned for me to follow him through the next doorway. "The locker room and training rooms are through here." I followed him down a short hallway that opened into another open space. The floor was orange tile, and the walls were covered with photographs of famous former Astros. I paused in front of Jeff Bagwell's portrait.

I grinned at Edward and placed my right index and middle fingers to my lips, then placed them against the image of Jeff's lips. He had been watching me with his hands in his shorts pockets. He doubled over and let out a belly laugh when he saw what I'd done. I moved on to Lance Berkman's portrait and stretched out my hand again, but Edward had somehow sidled closer to me. He grabbed my wrist before I could reach out. My skin prickled and stung where his touched me. We both lurched back and stared at each other.

"Bella, let me show you the locker room before we head into the Training Room," he requested, but his voice sounded hoarse and tight. I wasn't sure what was happening. We went left down the short hallway, and Edward opened a door into a typical locker room, but much nicer than you could ever imagine.

The carpet, although orange, was heavy and plush, and my feet in my Easy Spirit slip-ons sank into it. The walls were painted navy blue and lined with wooden lockers and an orange padded bench that ran the length of the room. I followed Edward further in until he paused in front of a locker. I examined it closely and realized that a metal plate identified it as belonging to "E. Masen."

I turned my face to Edward, and his was serious. I happened to know how much this meant to him, and I swallowed a lump in my throat. He pulled out a key and unlocked it, swinging the door wide. Inside hung a pristine, white Astros uniform. The jersey was hung in such a way that we had a full view of its back. The large number "20" was in the middle, just below the name "Masen." I reached out to gently finger the fabric and turned incredulously toward Edward. He was smiling shyly at me, ducking his head slightly.

"Wow, Edward, this is amazing," I told him. He shook his head self-deprecatingly.

"No, not really. I mean, I've only worn it for pictures, so that's why it's so clean and new looking. And who knows if I'll ever wear it for real…" he trailed off, and I saw his nervousness about the injury once again. I didn't think; I just reached for him.

"Hey, we'll get you better. Don't worry," I told him as I touched his cheek and ran my fingers down the curve of his jaw. I froze when I realized what I'd done. Our eyes locked, and he raised his hand to grasp my fingers, pulling them away from his face. Then, he took a step back. I took a step back too, mired in humiliation, but he continued to study me with an inscrutable expression.

"We better get to work," he finally said and walked ahead of me out of the room. I guessed I wasn't going to get a tour of the showers. He led me back into the main hallway, and we went in the opposite direction of the locker room. Edward opened another door and motioned me inside. It was decorated similarly to the locker room but with orange tile and navy blue walls.

Edward had not been exaggerating when he said that the Training Room at the ballpark was state of the art. Whitlock and Associates was a boutique practice, appealing to an upscale crowd, and, as such, was appropriately outfitted. But, it didn't hold a candle to these facilities. The equipment was all brand-new, unscuffed, and came in every shape and size available. Against the far wall was a glass-fronted refrigerator full of Minute Maid products.

But the room was deserted, not another soul in sight. I'm sure it was bustling during the season, but with everyone in Florida for spring training, we had the place to ourselves. It was silent as we both stood there surveying the space. The only sound was the buzzing of the overhead fluorescent lights. I whistled.

"I think you were being modest when you said the facilities were 'just as good' as Whitlock and Associates," I chided. He let out a small laugh, and I welcomed the sound, hoping we could continue the afternoon without awkwardness. I motioned toward one of the training tables covered with orange leather padding.

"It'll do," Edward joked to my relief. "Do you want something to drink?" he asked when he saw me eyeing the fridge. I shook my head, no, so he retrieved a tension band and sat down on the table, and we dove into the routine. We worked in relative silence, only commenting on the exercises now and then. I could already see that he was getting stronger and more flexible, his range of motion less painful.

"Well, that's it," I said when he was done, wondering what would happen next. Edward hopped off the table and gave me a boyish grin. It was so much like the one I remembered that it caused my heart to lurch. I was forced to take an extra deep breath.

"I'll show you the rest of the stadium now," he enthused. "The Clubhouse has got to be kind of boring for you." I shook my head.

"No, not many people get to come down here," I argued. "It's an honor." He dismissed that with a shake of his head and motioned for me to follow him. We went back to the little hallway with the portraits, and he gestured towards a metal door painted navy blue.

"That's the door to the tunnel. It leads to the dug out. I want to take you on the field last, though. Come on, we'll go up the elevator," he told me. We made our way back down the concrete hallway to the elevator we'd seen before. We got in, and he pressed the button for the first floor. I already knew that the second and third floors were the conference rooms, and the fourth and fifth were the executive floors. I made a mental note to ask about the sixth floor; I could see the button on the panel.

We got out on the first floor when the doors opened into a nondescript lobby space. Edward quickly led me through a door, and we came out in the main lobby of the Union Station building. It was a renovated reinterpretation of the original train station built in 1910 when railroads had been Houston's main industry. The space was large and soaring and had that Golden Age feel.

The box office was off to one side, and there were a few people milling around. Edward pulled his cap down tight over his eyes, and his hair fanned out over his ears. I reminded me of the night I met him and his slightly too long hair.

"So, this is the Union Station building," he told me unnecessarily, but I nodded enthusiastically. He motioned for me to follow him again, and we passed onto the main concourse after he used a set of keys to open one of the metal gates next to the turnstiles. I understood his need for haste because our actions had caught the attention of a few of the box office customers, and they were looking curiously our way.

It was typical of a baseball stadium with shuttered concessions on one side, and a vantage of the field on the other. I drifted to the edge of the concourse and looked down over the expanse of empty green, plastic seats to the field.

"Wow, it's pretty crazy to see real grass in the Astros Stadium," I remarked. I felt Edward come up behind me, and he was standing very close. I longed to lean back into him, but I remained upright.

"It's Platinum TE Papsalum turf," he told me, and I could feel his breath tickle my neck. "It's genetically engineered, which is why it's so green," he told me. I turned slowly so as not to startle him, and I noticed he took a small step back as I did so. He laughed at my expression.

"I have no idea what that means," I said honestly. He reached down for my hand and tugged on my fingers. The maneuver seemed unconscious, so I let him do it. Our skin zinged again as we touched, but this time he didn't move away.

"Come on, you'll get a better look from the Center Field Deck," he insisted, and I followed, my fingers still grasped in his palm. "It was cutting edge when it was installed a few years ago. Minute Maid was the first park to use it." I was hyperaware of my hand in his as I followed him around the concourse toward center field. He seemed not to notice. The gesture was classic Edward, open and honest, and it made me wonder if the guy I'd known was still in there somewhere.

He was right; the view from the Center Field Deck was great. I looked over the entire field, including Tal's Hill in far center field with its treacherous flag pole, the pitcher's mound, home plate, into the dugouts, and up at the media and high roller boxes. I was charmed by the model train, which ran along the west side of the stadium. I'd seen it on TV, of course, but it was more striking in person. I wished I could see it in motion.

Edward pointed out the vintage gas pump that logged all the Astros' home runs which was on the deck near where we stood. Unfortunately, while I'd been looking around, he had dropped my hand. I looked up into his face, and he was beaming back at me. He pointed his index finger toward the sky.

"Look up," he told me, and I turned my face into the warm sun. The retractable roof was open, and I had a spectacular view of the skyline from where I stood. It was a strange sight, after all my experiences in the Astrodome.

"The part of the roof over the outfield is glass, so that you can still see the skyline even when it's closed," he told me. I had known that from seeing it on TV, but I nodded excitedly anyway.

"What do you think?" he asked me.

"It's great, Edward. I'm so glad you've achieved your dreams," I told him and had to swallow hard to clear the lump in my throat. A cloud passed over his face.

"Not quite yet," he told me with a small frown, but his face cleared almost immediately. "Do you want to go down on the field?" I nodded enthusiastically again. Edward led me through the upper level of the concourse and used his key card to gain access to the Club Level lounge. From there, we found ourselves back at that main elevator. We headed back down to the Clubhouse level.

"What's on the sixth floor?" I asked to break the silence. Edward seemed a little moodier than before, and I was aching to regain our previous rapport.

"Oh, it's a really nice deck with crazy views of the city," he told me. "You can rent it out for parties." Then, the doors opened, and we were back in the tunnel. I followed him again into the Clubhouse space, and we went through the door into the dugout. I glanced around briefly. It was pretty much as expected; a long padded bench, open to the field. I held my breath as Edward gestured for me to climb the stairs onto the grass.

I stood on the edge and gazed over the field. It looked larger somehow from this vantage. Edward had followed me up the steps and grabbed my hand again. He tugged for me to follow him, his boyish enthusiasm back.

"Come on, you can see much better from out here," he insisted. I allowed myself to be towed along, once again enjoying the physical contact. I could see right away that he was headed for the pitcher's mound with its red dirt and crisp white paint starkly contrasting the green grass surrounding it. We reached it and stood on top of it. Edward faced home plate with his arms crossed over his chest. I tilted my head back and gazed at the clear blue, Texas sky. I thought about my dad and how excited he'd be that I was standing there.

"I haven't pitched from this spot," Edward's words broke into my musings. "_That_'s my dream. So, I'm not quite there yet," he said solemnly. I brought my gaze down, and he turned slightly until we were looking at each other. "What about you, Bella? Have you achieved your dreams?" His eyes were intense as he asked the million-dollar question.

"I don't know," I finally managed to stutter. His return into my life had me questioning my definition of happy ever after, but I didn't know how to put that into words. Our eyes were locked, and the air between us grew tense. I couldn't look away, and I saw Edward lean towards me, then take a step closer. We were only inches apart. I thought about what I wanted and decided to be brave for once. I took another step toward him until all that was left was for one of us to turn our heads, and our lips would meet. I was holding my breath, but I could tell that Edward's breaths were coming too fast. He lifted his left hand to touch my cheek.

"Bella," he whispered. I couldn't tell if it was a question or a prayer, but it seemed to rouse him from his stupor, because he sighed and stepped back and away from me. He walked to the edge of the mound and turned his back toward me. He pulled the cap off his head with one hand and ran the other through his hair. I heard him curse softly before he turned back to me.

I was embarrassed, but I found some inner strength and stayed where I was. I hadn't imagined that moment, and my pulse was racing. His eyes met mine with apology.

"I'm sorry," he said with a pleading gaze. "I just can't…" he trailed off, and he shook his head with frustration. I held up a hand and interrupted, taking him out of his misery.

"I understand," I told him. We just looked at each other. "I should go," I finally said but I made no move to leave. I vowed at that moment that I would never walk away from him again. He nodded slowly and started toward the dugout but turned almost immediately to make sure I was following him. I trailed behind, but he slowed his steps until we were walking together. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"What's happening here, Bella?" he asked with a sigh.

"I don't know," I admitted, "but I think we need to have a long talk." He whistled out a long breath.

"You're right, but I can't do it now. I need some time to wrap my head around this. There are a lot of things I need to say to you," he told me.

"Of course, so do I," I agreed. We walked in silence through the dugout and out the tunnel to the parking lot. We both remained quiet on the short drive back to my apartment complex. My mind was racing, but my main emotion was elation. I was giddy with hope. I wanted to shout and pump my fists, but I figured Edward would find that strange.

I fished the gate clicker out of my purse when we pulled up to the Greenbriar. The gate swung open, and Edward drove to my corner of the complex without comment, like he'd done so many times before. He pulled into a spot and cut the engine. I was surprised and wondered if he was planning on coming inside. He turned to face me.

"I don't think it's a good idea for us to work out at the park again. We should meet at Whitlock next week," he told me seriously. I tried not to wince at his words, but I could see the wisdom there. I could never go back to that place again without thinking about our almost kiss. I nodded seriously, and he got out of the car, coming around to open my door before I realized what was happening.

I climbed out of the car and stood awkwardly in front of him. He leaned in and kissed my forehead and was back around the front of the car before I could react. I stood there dumbly while he got into the car and rolled down the passenger side window.

"Have a good night, Bella," he called. Then, his engine growled to life, and he backed out and drove away. I don't know how long I stood there before I recovered the ability to walk inside.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Well, then. I'll wait to hear from you…

EG


End file.
